


Out In The Big Wide Woods

by LegendaryBard



Series: Out in the Big Wide Woods Universe [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Lots of Background Ships, M/M, Minor Violence, Mystery, Mythical!AU, Slice of Life, Urban Fantasy, light humor, minor torture, verrry slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 50
Words: 195,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8312551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryBard/pseuds/LegendaryBard
Summary: Gabriel Reyes wakes up on the side of a dirt path with no recollection of how he got there in the first place. Something foul is afoot, and he's going to figure it out, preferably by kneecapping the bastard who dumped him in the middle of nowhere.





	1. It's Gotta Start Somewhere

Gabriel Reyes woke up gradually to warm sunshine on his face. Not altogether unusual- he was no stranger to oversleeping and being woken up by sunlight through the blinds. He guessed maybe he should stop scheduling night and morning shifts with only a few hours’ gap inbetween.

He was lying somewhere distinctly uncomfortable. A soft layer of something underneath him, but something hard beneath that. Carpet? Maybe. He’d passed out on his own and other peoples’ carpet after working hard and drinking harder. 

Gabriel sat up, blinking and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

A glance around ( damn, his eyes hurt, why was it so bright? ) confirmed that he was most definitely not on a carpet, and even more definitely not in his house.

To his right, a thin dirt path that looked like it’d only ever been used once, ever. To his left, a singular tree and some scrubbly looking shrubs. That soft carpet? Leaves, it looked like. And past the tree,  _ Jesus christ it was a fucking cliff.  _ He didn’t dare peep over the edge. He didn’t have a fear of heights, but there had only been four feet and a shitty old tree keeping him from rolling over in his sleep and falling to his death. 

That woke him up enough, and he scrambled to his feet, using the tree for support. Gabriel forced himself to take in more of his immediate surroundings, even over the edge of the cliffside.

Looked like he was maybe eight hundred, nine hundred feet up? Possibly a thousand, he was shit at estimating distances.

He was also in the middle of  _ fucking nowhere.  _

Not a power line, smokestack, house, or any sign that human beings had been anywhere near here at anytime. If it weren’t for the trail, Gabriel would’ve thought he was in someplace completely untouched by humankind. A rather sobering thought.

Gabriel wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to do, or what he was supposed to think. He’d never really left the urban sprawl of LA, so this was so far out of his depth he didn’t even know how terrified he should be.

First thing was first. He peeled up his beloved hoodie, looking over the expanse of his dark stomach. A couple winding pink scars, but nothing new, so he probably still had his organs and stuff. Great. Nobody snatched his kidney and dumped him out in the woods to die, so that’s awesome. 

He pushes the hoodie back down over his stomach and looks back out at the expansive valley down below. He tries to imagine where he might be. A national park, maybe? The closest place with this many trees that he can think of is the Los Padres national forest, but Jesus Christ, he could be anywhere. He has no idea how long he’d been sleeping, or any idea where he was. The sun’s position in the sky tells him which way is east and west, not that it’s particularly useful- complementary to that, Gabriel never really understood why a compass was so important. He guessed he was just an idiot city slicker. 

He takes stock of himself. One hoodie, freshly washed but probably covered in leaves. A pair of jeans. Some hardy, lace-up steel-toed boots. One white cotton T shirt underneath the hoodie. His faithful beanie. He checked his pockets: His keys, his wallet ( thank god, it even had the couple of twenties and loose change still in there, along with his driver’s license and credit card ) but not his  _ phone,  _ god dammit. Would he even get service out here? He’d stuck with a cheap, shitty phone company with crap coverage, because god  _ damn  _ he didn’t think he’d be dropped in the middle of assfuck nowhere with no warning.

The knife he kept down one of his boots was still there. It was a combat knife, which meant it’d be shit for cutting down branches or whatever the fuck the guys did in the movies to stay alive, but he could defend himself with it. Did they have bears this far south? Christ, he hoped not. He might’ve been a cop, but meleeing an eight hundred pound grizzly bear is outside of his skillset. As is surviving in the middle of the fuckin’ woods, but he’s gotta make due with something. 

He rubs his hands together- woolen, fingerless gloves, he forgot about those, add ‘em to the tally of supplies he still had.

Should he go up or down the path? Chances were there had gotta be  _ something  _ up top. Paths lead somewhere, right? He was hoping for one of those picnic areas like they had in some of the scraggly little parks in the not-quite-upper-class-but-not-lower-class areas of LA. Did they have those in national parks? Maybe there was a ranger station or something. 

He forced himself to his feet and moved up the mountain path slowly. He thanks himself in his head for pursuing cop as a career choice. If he wasn’t physically fit, he would’ve found the climb up a lot more difficult. The path wound in steep circles, over and over, and he was pretty sure if you parked a car up on this slope it’d go rolling back down and off the edge of the cliff. It was amusing to picture that in his head, but less amusing when he imagined himself in it. Falling to his death seemed like an especially shitty way to go. He’d take fighting a grizzly bear with a knife over plummeting a thousand feet off a sheer drop. 

He made his gradual way up the dirt trail, the sun beating down on his back. It was a chilly day, and he welcomed its warmth. The wind had started picking up, and he had to edge nervously away from the cliff’s edge, lest he be blown off. Bad mental images fluttered around in his head and he had to tamp them down. At least the path was gradually lined with trees, shrubs, and dead grass. Nature’s shitty safety nets, hurrah.

_ Don’t be so pessimistic, Gabe.  _ He scolded himself.  _ C’mon. Can’t be that much further. _

His own mental encouraging and congratulating allowed him to ascend to the top. Just before climbing up to the big flat bit at the peak, the path had grown so steep that he’d felt an urge to crawl on his hands and knees so he wouldn’t accidentally fall over. Crawling around like an infant wasn’t exactly dignified, but he did hunker down a little bit. 

He was now in a big, wide open space. He huffed for breath, resting his hands on his knees. His back hurt, his calves hurt, his thighs were aching. How far had he gone? How long had it been? The silence- only broken by whispering leaves and occasional spurts of birdsong- was stifling, and he felt the urge to scream over the edge of the cliff just to hear himself echoed back. He had better mental fortitude than that, and he forced himself to assess his surroundings rather than start screaming like an idiot. 

The place was mostly a flat lot, cracked, dry dirt interspersed with weedy, straggling bits of grass, and old, hanging trees. There were massive bushes, little butterflies and stuff fluttering around the tiny pink flowers on the bushes. He wondered if in a pinch he could eat those leaves. They were still healthy and green looking. Did people eat leaves? Salad was leaves. Spinach, anyway. There were probably vegans who ate only leaves. He wondered if maple leaves tasted like syrup.

_ FOCUS, Gabriel.  _

He was probably trying to cover up his gibbering fear at being stuck in the middle of nowhere, possibly starving to death or being doomed to live here until he died, by scrambling around for whatever dumbass thoughts crossed his mind. He wished his brain would cut that out. They had to accept that he was stuck here, and needed to do his best to survive and find civilization- and he couldn’t do that if he was wondering if maple leaves tasted like syrup.

The entire area was about a hundred feet squared, even if it took the form of a really jagged shape that looked more or less like a circle. Directly across from the path was a house. Or, it looked like a house. Made entirely of wood, two stories tall, with a bigass porch. It looked more like a mansion than a house, now that he thought about it. At best, he’d just found his rescue. At worse, he’d just found a murderer psycho’s house who killed innocent people who’d been dumped on their road. 

He pulled the knife out of his boot. 

Probably the former was more likely, but you could never be too careful. Hell, the most likely thing was the damn place was completely empty. It looked kind of decrepit. Like it’d been well-lived in at some point, but someone had left and stopped caring for it. Not dilapidated or overtly rotting, though. 

He couldn’t imagine who would own a property up here. 

He went up to the door- there was a big brass knocker- and grabbed it. He slammed it down a few times and yelled, “Hello!? Anybody home?” 

Silence. Gabriel waited patiently for a reply- either the door opening, getting murdered, or getting yelled at- and after a couple minutes, figured probably nobody was home. Oh well, wouldn’t be the first door he kicked in. Sure, it was illegal to enter somebody’s house, especially by busting down their door, but if nobody was home, he should be long gone by the time it took for anybody to check up on this place- 

Wait a minute.

Gabriel leaned in, pressing his ear flat to the door.

Whispers. Those were most definitely  _ whispers.  _ The distinct sound of human speech, muffled by the door and so distant that it was incoherent murmuring. If people were in there and they didn’t let him in, he was going to be pissed. 

He leaned in, to try to hear closer, but footsteps approached the door and he scrambled away in a panic. 

It opened, and Gabriel was struck immediately by how normal this woman looked. Not, like, supernaturally normal, but she wasn’t a saccharinely sweet looking grandma or an axe murderer. 

She was a grandma, though, or old enough to be one. Dark-skinned- an Arab, maybe? Her royal blue hijab seemed to suggest so. Short compared to him but average height for a woman. She was rather thin, swaddled in a grey coat- a cream-colored sweater peaked out from the undone top buttons- and some plain pants. A few strands of silver-white hair escaped the veil, but she tucked them behind her ear. One golden eye focused intensely on his face, and he squirmed a little under that gaze. 

He had a police captain who glared at him like that. Liao was straight-up vicious sometimes, even if she had a heart of gold. 

“Uh-” Gabriel started.

“How did you get here?” She asked, cutting him off mildly. Her voice was crisped with an accent, and he was decently sure that she had lived somewhere in the Middle East. 

“That’s a good question,” Gabriel said, awkwardly. “I don’t know. I’m looking for help.” 

“Tell me what you know,” She looked up and down his figure, critical. “You must remember something.” 

“Yeah, alright.” He scratched the nape of his neck. “I woke up down the cliffside. Don’t remember how I got here, don’t know what day it is, don’t know where I am. Could you tell me any of that, ma’am?” He’s using his Polite Police Officer voice, that he slipped to subconsciously. 

“Why don’t I LET YOU INSIDE.” She said, the last four words nearly shouted. Gabriel arched a brow in confusion. She didn’t move to get out of the way, and he swore he could hear something moving around the house.

“Is somebody else with you?” Gabriel asked, apprehensive. Maybe this normal old lady was hiding an axe murderer- In that case, Gabriel would take his chances wandering around the cliffside until he died of exhaustion or starved to death. 

“I have a few pets,” She said. “Birds, cats-” 

The biggest goddamn dog Gabriel had ever seen nuzzled past her legs and onto the porch. Goddamn creature looked like a bear or something at first. The humongous thing’s shoulder was level with her hip, must’ve been three and a half feet tall or more and built like a fucking tank. Massive shoulders, broad chest, solid, long legs, and a massive muzzle. Its fur was dappled with brown, dark and light, and decently shaggy. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, slobbering, and it panted happily, massive furry tail wagging and rhythmically slamming against the nearest wall. It had a jingling collar that barely fit around its neck, and warm brown eyes. Its massive jet-black nose flared, and it padded forward to attempt to shove its nose in Gabriel’s groin. Gabriel, deciding he didn’t want a giant dog’s teeth anywhere near his family jewels, took several hurried steps back.

The grandmother grabbed it by the collar before it could attempt to lunge after him, jerking it sharply as a reprimand. The massive dog whimpered pathetically, halfheartedly pulling against her grip, but she tapped it on the nose and it reluctantly turned back and slunk inside the house. It must’ve been pretty well trained, because there was no way a lady of her stature could overpower a massive beast like that.

“- and dogs. That’s Jesse. He’s a gentle soul. Very clumsy. He thinks he’s a lot smaller than he actually is.” She said apologetically.

“What kind of dog is he?” Gabriel asked, faintly distressed. “That’s a  _ big  _ fu- that’s a big animal. I’ve never seen anything like him.”

“He’s a mastiff.” She supplied, just a little too quickly. “Why don’t you come in, Mr…?”

“Reyes.”

“Why don’t you come in, Mr. Reyes?” She pulls the door open, steps back to allow him in. With a good measure of caution, he trails down the very slim hallway after her. Small staircase to the left, rickety with age. They passed a few doors alternating from right to left ( bathrooms? Storage closets?) and Gabriel wondered how the fuck she got food up here in the middle of nowhere. A little old lady didn’t exactly strike him as the ‘live off the land’ type. Maybe there were gardens or something? That big-ass dog could probably take down an entire bear by itself, maybe it hunted for her. Nah, probably not. 

She led him into a living room of sorts- a couple slashed up sofas, a coffee table, a few drawers, some paintings, a ratty faded old carpet, a brick fireplace, some bookshelves- Standard old people livingroom, that spoke of being well-lived in and cared for even while being rundown. Ton of potted plants, which seemed a little weird. There were some hanging ones from the ceiling, some of them with impressive flowers, fragrance, and color. The dog, which’d been lying on the carpet, perked up at Gabriel’s arrival.

“Jesse, you keep seated or I get a new fur coat,” She threatened, although her voice was good-natured. The dog laid its head back down, disgruntled. “I’m sorry about him, Mr. Reyes, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” In her kindest old lady voice, she asked him, “Would you like some tea? Something to eat?” 

“Uh-” Well. Now that she mentioned it, his mouth was dry as hell and he could go for some food, yeah. Supposing he’d only been on that cliffside for one night, he hasn’t eaten for at least twelve hours. “Hungry, thirsty, yeah. I’m a little more interested in getting  _ home,  _ though.”

She hummed, single eye sweeping down his form. “We’re about thirty miles from the next person I know of, Mr. Reyes. It’s going to be a journey instead of a walk, especially considering I don’t exactly have a car laying around.”

_ Thirty miles? Jesus Christ.  _ A wave of disbelief, and to a lesser extent, despair, washed over him. He tried to do some math on that. Average person walked… Two, three miles an hour, right? That’s… Ten or fifteen hours of walking through dangerous forest, with the potential to get even more hopelessly lost than he had been climbing up all this way. Hell, the sun would probably set in six hours, and forget wandering the forest in the dark.

_ Fuck. _

He must not have composed himself as well as he thought, because sympathy creased her brow and she set a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know that’s rather disheartening, Mr. Reyes, but my daughter should be home in a few days. She can guide you back to civilization. I would do it myself, but I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Your daughter?” He asked stupidly. 

“Fareeha.” She supplied. “She has a knack for the forest.” 

“Well, I guess-”

Jesse lifted his head, stretching his jaws wide in a yawn that ended in a shrill, piercing whine. He looked at the old woman pleadingly, taking short, huffing breaths. He made some kind of weird dog moan/growl mixture, pattering his massive paws on the carpet. 

“Probably hungry too,” The old woman gave the dog the hairy eyeball (singular) and turned around, heading back through the hallway.

“Wait,” Gabriel called. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! Ana, Ana Amari.” She nodded, allowing a smile to overtake her face. “You sit down on the couch, Mr. Reyes, I’ll be back with tea in a few minutes! If Jesse misbehaves, just smack him on the nose.” 

She opened one of the doors on the right and disappeared through it, shutting it behind her. Gabriel looked at the dog questioningly. Its eyelids were half-lowered, and it was sprawled on one side, legs splayed. When it noticed he was looking, it made eye contact, tail tentatively starting to wag. Gabriel snorted and sat down on the couch, shifting to get comfortable.

“I’m not your friend,” Gabriel told it sternly. He folded his arms. It made no reply, continuing to pant like a dumb dog idiot. 

Gabriel looked away, drumming his fingers impatiently on the couch’s arm. The hell was he gonna do up here for a couple days? Christ, this was gonna fuck everything up. He had friends who’d be worried about him. Did Liao count as a friend? She liked him in her hardass way. That probably counted. 

He had a job. Cop, got kind of messy and necessary if you lived in LA. There would be some thugs who’d go unnoticed if he wasn’t on the prowl, and that pissed him off almost as much as being stranded in the middle of some forest somewhere. There was paperwork that probably needed filing, although he was pretty glad to get away from it. Just meant some other poor bastard would have to do it, though. 

Neither of his parents would give one if he croaked. Probably wouldn’t even attend his funeral. Assholes. Liao would be upset for a while, but she’d seen good men die before, she was a soldier before she was a cop. He didn’t have any pets, children, or immediate family members outside his mother and father. His parents would probably get his money and his stuff. Sell his things on Craigslist or something and stuff the money into a bank so they could accumulate even more wealth.

Maybe he wouldn’t be missed that much.

Amari came down the hall again, precariously balancing a tray with three cups and a teapot. A tiny little bowl of sugar and a few spoons along with it- such a cute little bone china set that looked so old that it must’ve belonged to this old woman’s grandmother or something. She set the tray on the battered little coffee table, and Gabriel leaned forward to appraise the tea. He picked up one of the spoons- delicately engraved and glittering. 

“Is that real silver?” 

Jesse let out a distressed yap, scrambling to his feet. His chocolate brown eyes were wide and frightened, ears plastered to the back of his skull and tail clamped beneath his legs. He let out a doggy  _ boof,  _ broad head swinging in every which direction.

“No, it’s not.” Ana said, shooting Jesse a glare. If dogs can look sheepish, the massive mastiff did. He slumped back down onto the carpet, resting his head on his paws. Weirdest goddamn dog Gabriel had ever seen. “We don’t keep silver in the house. It’s much too expensive.” 

“I guess so.” Gabriel furrowed his brow. Before he could think of something else to say, she interrupted.

“How much sugar do you take your tea with?”

“Uh, just a spoonful, I guess.” He didn’t drink tea much. Or at all, really. Only days when he’d been really, really sick and Liao had shoved a mug into his hands and told him to sit the fuck down. He took coffee black, and figured maybe tea would be the same way. “What kind of tea is it?”

“Oh, it’s brewed from the garden. I have a greenhouse in the back.”

“Looks like a greenhouse in here, if you don’t mind me saying.” He took a sip, glancing up at the hanging plants. The tea is bitter, and that’s all he can really taste out of it. He doesn’t think it’s going to taste any better if he adds more sugar, so he takes another sip and sets it down. 

“I have a lot of plants, Mr. Reyes.” She said, with a slight shrug. “They don’t all fit. Besides, these add a certain atmosphere, don’t they?” 

“Guess so.” 

“Mr. Reyes, I get the feeling you’re not the kind of person to make small talk.” Amusement colors her voice. “Let me just be clear, then. I want to ask you a couple questions, is that alright?” 

Gabriel frowned. “Do you think it’ll help anything?”

“I want to get a sense of… You. You’re not the first man who’s come here, disoriented and confused.”

“I’m not?” His cop senses started tingling. This was out of his realm of jurisdiction, but an investigation always got his blood pumping. “Who else has been here, Ms. Amari?” 

“Ah-ah. Tell you what: I ask you a couple questions, then you can ask all the ones you want, okay?” She took a delicate sip from her tea. 

“...... Alright.” Gabriel slouched back, grumpily staring at the rim of his teacup. 

“Can you remember anything at all from yesterday?”

“Sure. I remember coming home from work. Passing out on my bed. Waking up on the side of a cliff.”

She pursed her lips. “What’s your line of work, Mr. Reyes?” 

“Cop.” He said, warily. She doesn’t show any outward reaction other than a hum. 

“You don’t recall meeting any strangers that night?”

“No. I went right home from the station. Went to bed without even taking off my clothes. God, I was exhausted.” 

“Do you remember any strange dreams?”

“Uhh…” He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, closing his eyes as he tried to recall. Warm, fuzzy darkness of sleep. “Don’t  _ think  _ so.”

“That’s… Unusual.” Ana frowned. “Most people have strange, vivid dreams before they get here.”

“‘Most people’? How many people have come up here?” He asked, slightly distressed. 

“Ten in the last thirty years. Not that many.” 

“Oh.” Gabriel grimaced slightly. 

“Most of them were men, but we had the occasional woman. All adults, all healthy.” 

“What happened to them?” Gabriel asked. “You make it sound like they’ve died.” 

“I took them to the nearest ranger station. I never saw them again.” She sipped her tea lightly. “You’re the first police officer we’ve been brought.”

“Been brought?”

“I think something is bringing you on purpose. I haven’t figured out what it is, yet.”

Jesse looked awfully  _ guilty  _ over there. Damn dog could probably smell whatever or whoever had carted Gabriel and the others here. Made Gabriel wish he could talk and tell them.

“Anyway.” She shook her head slightly. “A few rules, since you’ll be staying here a couple days.  _ Don’t  _ go upstairs. It’s off limits, understand? There are… Personal things up there.”

“Gotcha.” Gabriel canted his head slightly. 

“Alright. Second thing: Don’t go outside without me or Jesse with you. It can be dangerous out there.” 

He nodded along. How an old woman could fend off something in the forest that himself, a muscular man in his forties couldn’t, was a mystery. 

“Third, final thing: You’re sleeping on the couch. I don’t have any other beds.”

“It’s not the worst place I’ve ever crashed.” Gabriel said, with a slight shrug. “Don’t worry about it. You want me to do chores or something? I’ve got some money on me if you want rent.” 

“What? Oh, no, Mr. Reyes. Don’t be silly.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Follow the rules. That’s all. Drink your tea- I have to check up on something upstairs. I’ll be right back.” 


	2. Dreams, Dogs, Drongos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has strange, harrowing dreams, learns a secret about Jesse, and meets one of the other people living in the house.

Gabriel wasn’t really a vivid dreamer.

He remembers nightmares as a little kid, maybe. One time when he was thirteen, maybe fourteen, he’d run away and gotten really, really sick. Thought he was gonna die. Fell asleep under a bridge, shivering pathetically, well aware he’d probably never wake up if he fell asleep- But he was so miserable he gave in and let himself rest.

He still remembered the fever dream, even thirty years later. He didn’t like thinking about it.

Gabriel was well aware that there was a percentage of people who could control their dreams. He thought the idea was pretty neat, but he didn’t think he really dreamed enough to make any use of the ability. He was pretty sure it had a particular name- Ah, _lucid_ dreaming. He didn’t think he’d ever had a lucid dream before.

First time for everything, he guessed.

He was in his apartment- a glance through the window told him it was overcast to the point where everything looked completely, solidly grey. Maybe it was the dream messing with the colors, though.

He paced through the front door, dumped his keys on the table out of sheer force of habit, and headed over to the couch, to slump on top of it. Nice to be home. He’d kill for a drink right now, not even alcoholic. All he’d had while he was awake was Ana’s weird tea.

He opened his slitted eyes. Drink in his hand. Oh, yeah, he could get used to this ‘lucid dreaming’ stuff.

He took a deep pull. Bitter, smoky, more expensive than the shit he usually had. Tasted like the whiskey Liao had gotten him for his birthday a couple years back. Good stuff. He relaxed into the battered old couch, reclining comfortably and taking occasional swigs. He should start dreaming more often, if this is what it’s like.

He heard a noise and lazily looked up in reply.

Someone entered the house. Ana, looking around and peering into his apartment.

“Wipe your feet.” Gabriel grunted in greeting.

She started. “You can see me?”

“Yeah?” He glanced up at her.

“You’re not supposed to be able to do that.” She had the nerve to sound annoyed.

“It’s my dream.” He set his drink down and folded his arms. “Deal with it. And don’t get huffy with me, you’re not even real.”

Ana pursed her lips. “I guess I’m not. Just keep laying there and let me take a poke around.”

“Don’t go rooting through my stuff.” Gabriel grunted. “Some of that is personal.”

“Does it matter? I’m just part of your dream, after all.” She pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s still weird.” He said, a little wounded.

“Just lie down and relax a little.” She drifted into the kitchen, separated from the living room by a tiny little kitchen island. His flat wasn’t that big. She rifled through some cabinets, through some drawers. “Do you have any food at all in here?”

“There’s a jar of sugar in the topmost cabinet. Some soda in the fridge. Probably a box of pizza?” Gabriel craned his neck.

“You need to go shopping.”

“We need to go shopping,” Gabriel corrected. “Why don’t you remind me? I made you up in my head, didn’t I?”

“Could you stop yelling at figments of your imagination?” Ana asked, voice withering. “This is going to sound odd, Mr. Reyes, but where would you keep important things?”

“Important things?” Gabriel asked, with a frown. “On me, I guess.”

“Obviously not.”

“What?” Gabriel stared at her blankly, and she shook her head.

“The bedroom, maybe?” She mused aloud. “Where’s the bedroom?”

“Bathroom’s the left door, bedroom’s the right.” Gabriel pointed helpfully. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

She didn’t reply to that, and instead padded up to the bedroom door. She paused for a moment, and Gabriel wondered if she was nervous.

“It’s not _that_ bad.” Gabriel assured her. “I’m not messy.”

“Go back to napping on the couch.” She waved her hand, reaching out the other for the knob. She muttered something in a language Gabriel didn’t know- could’ve been an insult or a prayer. “You need rest.”

“Aren’t I dreaming?” Gabriel asked. “That’s resting.”

“I need to concentrate. Stop talking.”

“Whatever.” He huffed.

She opened the door, and from what Gabriel could see on the couch, it was completely pitch black inside. That was weird, because it didn’t seem like the light from the living room/kitchen combo could even pierce it. Plus, it was daylight ( even if it was overcast ) and he never folded the blinds in his room. Should be at least slightly lit.  

“Something’s wrong,” Gabriel appraised, sitting up and putting down his drink. Ana shot him a withering glare that made him slowly lay back down.

“I can handle it. Just go to sleep, Mr. Reyes.”

That tipped him off more than anything else- He stood up, a frown drawn on his features. He could feel his standard-issue police Glock grow heavy in his hoodie pocket, even though it hadn’t been there before. He slowly drew it out, the safety coming off with a click. He moved closer, stepping heel-toe on sheer instinct to be quiet as he drew near.

“What’s in there?” He demanded, and before she could protest, “This is my apartment, _what’s in there?”_

“Mr. Reyes!” She lunged at him before he could peer in, with a speed he’d never seen from a woman her age. “Don’t!”

“The hell you can stop me!” The fact that she was keeping him from looking probably terrified him more than what was inside. She had him pinned up against one of the apartment’s walls, and he struggled, trying to get her off. Her grip was like _iron-_ this was not a simple _little old lady._ “What’s IN there, Amari!?”

He felt a sensation in his gut, tugging and cold, and a shiver immediately rippled through him. His stomach heaved violently, and he forgot which way was up, which way was down, as something icy and hot shot down his spine. He had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from puking, body rebelling violently against him.

He fell to his knees. Ana looked terrified, the flecks of gold in her brown eye much more visible due to her constricted pupil.

 _The hell is going on?_ Gabriel whimpered inside his head. His fingers and toes curled unbidden, and he shook his head, fighting to keep himself under control. He started hyperventilating against his will, and when he drew his hand away from his mouth, it was tacky with blood.

He looked up at his bedroom door.

Someone- or _something-_ was leaning out of it. An unnatural, stilted jet-black body connected to the oppressive shadows of the door through gooey strands. A birdlike face, with a beak and blank sockets for eyes. It canted its head, leaning towards Gabriel. It made a soft noise, somewhere between a growl and a hiss.

An overwhelming wave of nausea shot through him, and he struggled to keep himself together. He vomited- _bloody, frothy, speckled with little black chunks-_ and to his shame, passed out.

 

=

  


Gabriel woke up with a start.

He was not in his apartment, and he couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or not disappointed by that. If he had woken up back home, it would’ve been a lot harder to shake off the dream. If he hadn’t, well, he did still want to be back home, bad dreams or not.

Regardless of what he wanted, he was on Ana Amari’s soft, welcoming couch. Moonlight filtered in through the faded curtains of the window behind him, and he rolled onto his belly with a groan. He was somehow even more exhausted than he had been when he went to sleep.

“This sucks,” He muttered to no one in particular.

“I hear you,” A sympathetic voice replied, and Gabriel bolted upright, startled right out of the milky haze of sleepiness. On the edge of the couch, sitting on the opposite arm, was a man.

He was the hairiest motherfucker Gabriel had ever seen, and he worked with a _lot_ of burly men at the station. His beard was wild and untrimmed, his chest was practically a motherfucking grassland, and his legs and arms might as well be carpets.

And to cap it all off, the guy was naked.

Gabriel shot off the couch like he’d been shot, managing to stagger back towards the wall in fright. He jerked the combat knife out of his pocket and brandished it, cursing the air blue in Spanish.

“The fuck are you!” He managed to get out in English.

“I’m Jesse.” He said, warmly.

“I thought that’s what the dog was called.” Gabriel hadn’t relaxed his stance, nor unruffled his metaphorical feathers. Naked men weren’t supposed to watch him sleep at night, even if he was in somebody else’s house, and it was fucking _creepy as hell._ How long had that bastard been there? Had he _done_ anything? Gabriel didn’t feel particularly… _Violated,_ except for what happened in the dream. Only indignant and possibly afraid for his life.

“I am the dog,” He beamed like an idiot. “Only sometimes though?”

“What?” Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “The hell does that mean?” Followed by, “Why are you naked?”

“Dogs don’t need clothes.” He corrected, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I’m Jesse! The dog! I tried to smell you but Ana jerked on my collar and pulled me back in the house! I was there when you had tea!”

Gabriel shifted his stance even more, tightening his face warily. This guy was obviously a nutcase, but he didn’t look to be armed…

“Ana didn’t mention this,” He ground out. “Seems like something important for her to mention.”

“She says that people don’t like people like us anymore.” ‘Jesse’ lowered his head, frowning. “She thought it would be better if you didn’t see us.”

“‘People like us’?” Gabriel echoed. There was a cult of psychos up here, wasn’t there?

“Yessir. Me, Jamie, Angela, Wilhelm, all those guys. They’re upstairs because Ana told them to hide.”

“Why?” He asked, warily.

“She _said_ she didn’t want them to scare you. Or for you to scare them. That’s a pretty bad looking knife you got there.” Jesse shrugged just the tiniest bit, then hopped off the arm of the couch, padding over to Gabriel. “Sooo, we don’t get a lot of strangers- Last time I saw one was when I was a little pup- and Ana won’t let me go much further than this mountain.” The man’s brown eyes glimmered almost crazily, and Gabriel tightened his grip on the knife. So help him, he _will_ stab this guy if he gets too close.

“I wanna know: What’s it like out there?” He asked, clasping his hands together.

“Shitty.” Gabriel said, blunt. “You keep _back,_ asshole.”

“Don’t need to be unfriendly,” Jesse barked back, huffing through his nose. It came off as another doglike gesture.

Gabriel briefly entertained the idea that this guy might be the mastiff from earlier. Same dark brown hair, same dark eyes, same big chest- He was a tall guy, Gabriel supposed. He had big furry patches of hair like a slightly balding dog’s. He _was_ wearing a collar. Gabriel refrained from looking lower; he had seen a lot of naked people in his line of duty, but he wasn’t the type of person to ogle at anyone’s bits, whether they were a man, a woman, or anywhere outside or in between. If his proof that he was secretly a dog was anywhere near his privates, then Gabriel would have to ask to prove it somehow else. Gross.

“Considering everything? Yeah, I think I’ve got a pretty good reason.” Gabriel mustered up as much contempt as he could. The guy seemed to deflate.

“You don’t believe me?” He asked, sounding just a bit defeated.

“Hairy naked guys watching you sleep in the middle of the night don’t strike high on my list of ‘trustworthy people to be believed’.” Gabriel said dryly.

Jesse stood there for a minute, looking like a kicked dog ( Gabriel swore he wasn’t trying to do the dog comparisons on purpose ) before brightening up a moment later.

“C’mon!” He grabbed Gabriel’s wrist and Gabriel nearly slit his fucking throat for it. He pulled away violently, knife slashing through the air and just barely missing the skin of his collarbone. Jesse yelped, skittering backward with a distinct lack of grace, gyrating wildly until he bumped his back against the wall.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Gabriel hissed, holding his arm to his chest like Jesse’s touch had burned him. The man himself cringed, holding up his hands in a gesture for peace.

“Sorry. I only want you to come outside with me, I didn’t mean anythin’ by it.” He genuinely sounded concerned.

Gabriel breathed deeply in and out, trying to calm his fluttering panic. He could feel his heart in his throat, fight or flight instincts kicking in. _Calm the fuck down. He’s an idiot and he’s not going to try to hurt you._ “Outside? Why?”

“Ana told me not to shift in the house.” He responded primly. “I break stuff. Not on purpose.”

“Shift?” He asked.

“I don’t always look this handsome. Like I said, I can turn into a dog.”

“We had this talk. I don’t believe you.” Gabriel folded his arms, tucking his knife away for the moment.

“I know that.” Jesse padded out for the hallway, gesturing for Gabriel to follow. “But I’m gonna prove it to you, sooo…”

Gabriel knew better than to go outside in the middle of the night with the crazy man. Curiosity itched at him, but he slammed his eyes shut and breathed deep. He knew very goddamn well that dog-men or werewolves or whatever this guy was claiming to be were _not real_ and he would _most definitely not be one._ At best, he has to leave the house with a psycho and stand around while this guy pretends to be a dog, or at worst, get attacked while his guard is down and… Killed, or _something._ Seems like it would’ve been wiser to smother or strangle him in his sleep, but hey, maybe this guy was a sadistic asshole who liked killing people while they could still kick and struggle.

There was a serial killer in LA like that once. Gabriel wished he’d punched the asshole one more time before he’d been peeled off the bastard by his squadmates. No death penalty in California his _ass._ At least the psycho freak would rot under bars for the rest of his life.

He moved away from the thought and considered following Jesse, weighing pros and cons.

Curiosity won over rationality and he ran after Jesse, who was waiting by the door with a smug grin on his face. He pushed it open, gesturing for Gabriel to go first.

“Hold on. Are you seriously going outside like that?” Gabriel asked, wrinkling his nose. “It’s freezing, and you’re not wearing clothes.”

“Don’t worry about me, hoss.” He replied. “I’m gonna have a nice, thick fur coat soon.”

Gabriel reached for the knife in his pocket as he passed Jesse and headed into the clearing. Something about those words seemed oddly… Ominous.

_Christ, Gabe, some naked whackjob claims he can turn into a dog and he’s leading you outside in the middle of the night._

“Okay.” He stood in front of Gabriel, not that the cop was giving him his full attention.

_If this isn’t ominous, it’s downright weird._

The man took a deep breath, closing his eyes and relaxing his hands.

_He’s probably gonna laugh at you and call you a gullible idiot-_

He started to shrink, just the tiniest bit. His hair grew thicker in the light of the moon.

_\- Idiot, why the hell did you even come out here anywh-_

He was jarred out of the thought when Jesse became completely swathed in dark fur, rippling and twisting, illuminated by the half moon overhead. Huffing, strained growls left the man, and Gabriel’s fingers tightened reflexively on the knife.

Something happened to the man’s hind legs. There was a creaking, cracking sound, and suddenly the man pitched forward onto his hands. His fingers and toes were rapidly shortening into nubs, tipped with blunt claws. A tail shot out of his rear end, surprisingly violently. Like dye through water, fur rippled up the tail until it was shaggy as the rest of him.

His fucking _face_ burst forward, a massive dark dog snout, wet nose glimmering in the moonlight. His jaws parted as his blunt human teeth sharpened and lengthened into canines, and his brow rearranged itself. His ears migrated to the top of his head, furred and twitching. There were the grating sounds of bone as his ribs and spine and hips and whatever else migrated and shaped back into canid’s skeleton. Muscles reformed, as did ligaments and tendons, and Gabriel could do nothing but watch, shocked into awe, as the whackjob naked man who had outrageously claimed he could turn into a dog was _turning into a dog._

Was he still _dreaming?_ This was surreal. He felt pretty faint.

He’d seen some fucked up and plain _weird_ shit as a cop, especially one in _LA,_ but this… This was horrifyingly creepy and awe inspiring all at the same time. Points to the dog man.

Gabriel covered his face with one of his hands, feeling wholly too stimulated by this sudden freaky-ass change. He had a strong urge and instinct to go back to bed and sleep all this off. He’d probably wake up the next morning with Liao standing over him on at his desk, yelling at him for sleeping on the job again.

His leg was nuzzled by something that felt suspiciously like a friendly dog nose, and Gabriel felt pretty close to dropping to his knees and sobbing like a maniac. He mustered up every ounce of willpower and dragged all his shit together, taking a deep, composing breath. He set a hand on Jesse’s head and quietly pet him.

“Oh my god.”  He murmured under his breath. “There are werewolves. Werewolves are real. What the fuck.”

He scratched behind his ears for good measure.

Jesse jogged away a moment later, shaggy tail held high as he jogged around in slow, doggy laps. His fur ( and some fat ) jiggled with each step, tail and ears bouncing as he plodded around. It was almost like he was mocking him, some kind of nonverbal ‘I told you so’. Gabriel let him gloat. He’d earned it for this. Jesus.

This brought up a lot of questions, most of which Gabriel didn’t want to think about. How many werewolves were there? Was magic real? Were there vampires? Were there vampires and werewolves and magic in _LA?_ Jesus Christ, normal criminals were bad enough. Getting his throat ripped open by a supernatural creature in the line of duty was a death he’d never even considered, but with magic at play…

There’s a whole lot of disgusting things he bet you could do once you factored in magic. He’d read the _Dresden Files,_ he’d read _Lord of the Rings,_ he’d read _Harry Potter._ ( He’d considered reading Twilight, since he’d only heard it was popular and not that it was terrible, but Liao had immediately shot the idea down after telling him to google it ) .

“I’m doing well at not freaking out, right?” Gabriel asked weakly. “Honestly, _cachorro,_ please tell me I’m doing good.”  

Jesse wagged his tail. Gabriel was willing to take that as a reassurance.

“Nice.” Gabriel exhaled deeply. “I need to lie down for a bit. I’m going back inside. If I wake up and you’re not a dog, I’m gonna stab you, alright? You’re a lot less freaky like this and I don’t think I’m going to be able to take any more.”

He whimpered, ears lowering pathetically, and Gabriel patted him on the head and went inside.

Waiting for him on the couch was a (man?) no more than six inches tall.

“No.” Gabriel said almost immediately, holding up his forefinger in warning. “I’m done. No more.”

“The fuck, you cunt?” A tiny Australian accent _immediately_ caught him off guard. “I’ve been waitin’ an entire day to talk to your human ass, and you can’t even be fucked to speak to me?”

“The dog’s a fucking werewolf. Get off the couch, I’m going back to bed.”  

“No!” He piped shrilly. He kicked off the cushions, and Gabriel realized the little bastard had wings. Tiny and translucent, like an insect’s, beating so fast that he could only catch the glimmer off them from the moonlight. Or maybe whenever they flapped they let off light? He had no idea.

Gabriel assessed him closer. Wearing some kind of sack cloth pants, both feet bare, chest bare save for a tiny little harness made of springy sapling branches. Light-colored hair that stood up so it looked like he’d been electrocuted, pointed ears, scraggly sharp teeth, and amber-colored eyes. He bared those teeth and thrust out his arms indignantly.

“Listen here, cunt, this ain’t your house an’ you got _no_ right to be claimin’ this couch. Guess what, asshole? It’s my couch!” He folded his arms, staring down at Gabriel with a smirk on his face. “What’re you gonna do about that? Huh?”

“I think I’m gonna go sleep outside.” Gabriel grimaced. He’d prefer freezing to death to getting terrorized by this… Fairy, or whatever it was.

“What?” The tiny man raged.

“Outside.” Gabriel turned around and headed back for the door, and the fairy or whatever fluttered in front of him, holding up a tiny hand to his chest. Damn guy’s entire hand was the size of one of Gabriel’s fingernails.

“You gotta sleep on the couch,” The fairy insisted.

“You just told me I couldn’t.” Gabriel pointed out.

“Yeah, but- Jus- Grhh!” He stamped a foot in midair, pointing violently towards the couch. “I’ll let you sleep on it!”

“Thanks.” Gabriel replied, turning back around and stalking towards it. The little fairy made an enraged noise through his nose, hovering after Gabriel. The cop laid back down, breathing deeply and closing his eyes. Didn’t even need a blanket, god damn. He was pretty sure all he needed was a couple minutes of peace and...

“You tricked me!”

Gabriel’s eyes opened as he felt a tiny weight dip onto his chest. The fairy stood on top of him, glaring down indignantly.

“Sorry, what?” Gabriel yawned. “I can’t hear you. Too small.”

The fairy bristled with rage, and punched Gabriel in the nose. He compared it to getting hit in the face with a pen tip if someone tossed it pretty gently.

Gabriel swatted him off, rolling on his side so his face was nuzzled up against the back of the couch. A vague sensation of pain came from his backside, and he realized the little fairy was literally kicking his ass.

“You humans are all the same! Dumb and- just- _dumb!”_ He raged, foot slamming into Gabriel’s asscheek. Didn’t hurt that bad. Gabriel figured he’d probably burn himself out sooner or later.

Sooner or later turned out to be five minutes later, when the fairy finally stopped, giving him a final kick on the ass for good measure.

“Humans are stupid anyway,” He muttered, folding his arms. There was a gentle noise that Gabriel interpreted as the little guy fluttering away.

Awgod, he could finally get to sleep now. Sweet relief.

His eyes closed just as a doggy tongue started bathing the back of his neck.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated! : D


	3. Talking It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel gets permission to wander the ground floor, helps Jamison make a potion, and Ana gives him a choice.

Gabriel woke up with the distinct smell of dog choking his nostrils, and he was not happy about it.

“Get off me!” He wriggled on the couch, elbowing the mutt currently trying to cuddle up to him. “It’s not that cold,  _ pendejo,  _ get the hell off!” 

Jesse yelped as he was forced off the couch, thumping against the ground and scrambling to his feet with the scrape of dull claws on wood. Gabriel impatiently flipped on his side, so he could see the rest of the livingroom. The sight of the dull place in the grey light of the early morning was so  _ normal  _ that he almost forgot what’d transpired the night prior.

Then his ass started to sting, and Jesse glared at him in a definitely human and incredibly accusatory way. Definitely still in the psycho mythical creature house, then. 

“Good morning, Mr. Reyes.” Ana shuffled into the room, looking rather bleary. Her silver hair had been done up in a braid, visible since she was sans hijab this morning. There was a significance to that Gabriel didn’t quite know, but he figured it was her choice whether she was veiled or not. She had a fuzzy lavender bathroom on, plus flannel pajama pants and slippers. She had a steaming mug and Gabriel found himself envious. It might’ve been tea and not coffee, but a hot drink was always good on a chilly morning. “How did you sleep last night?” 

“To put it mildly?” Gabriel said, sounding incredibly sour and not bothering to check himself. “When were you planning on telling me that Jesse was a werewolf?” 

“Mr. Reyes, I think you might be mistaking dreams with reality-” 

He glared at her. “The little fairy that kicked me in the ass about a hundred times wasn’t a  _ dream,  _ Ms.  _ Amari.”  _

She looked guilty. He’d seen the look on criminals who realized he hadn’t bought their con. 

“And how do you feel about this, Mr. Reyes?” She sat down at one of the well-worn armchairs, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her tea.

“I feel like you’re all psychotic and I want to go home.”

Surprise colored her face. “You seem remarkably undisturbed.” 

“I’m a cop. I’ve seen weird stuff. It makes sense, too. In a way.” 

“How?” She asked.

“Something brought me here, right? Supernatural, whatever it was, which would explain how I got here and why I don’t remember anything.” Something occurred to him. “Are you one of these creatures, too? A shapeshifter or something?” 

“Oh, no, Mr. Reyes. I’m an alchemist by trade- I have the Gift.” 

“Gift of what?” He asked warily.

“Magic, Mr. Reyes.” 

“If I hadn’t seen Jesse turn into a dog or the fairy man, I would’ve laughed in your face if you told me that.” Gabriel said begrudgingly. “What kind of…  _ Magic,  _ I guess?” 

“Healing, mostly. My daughter has the Gift, but she uses it for less useful pursuits. Most of her magic goes into keeping the house organized and flying around the forest. And Jamison’s not a fairy, he’s a pixie. He gets very offended if you call him by the wrong name.” 

“Whatever. Aren’t they the same thing, anyway?” 

“All pixies are fairies, but not all fairies are pixies.” She explained. 

“So I’m not  _ wrong.”  _ He objected. 

“Jamison is sensitive about it. Call him by the right name, please. The last thing you want is a ruffled pixie. Then we have to wait until he burns himself out.” 

Gabriel’s ass throbbed in the dozens of spots the pixie had kicked him. She was probably right. “Alright. So, you guys are a bunch of… Magic people. What I want to know is there  _ more  _ of you.” 

“Oh, of course. It’s not just restricted to this one home in the middle of nowhere. Werewolves and the sort are everywhere, but they’re mostly a good bunch. Are you worried about being attacked?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You’ll start noticing more magical creatures now that you’ve had a touch of magic, but they won’t know you know about them. If you were a wizard or another magical creature you’d have trouble, but if you were, I guarantee you would know by now. Symptoms display when you’re ten years old, and you must be three times older than that at least.” 

He grimaced. “Guess I would. But this is… A lot. To take in.” 

“Sorry.” She said. “Would you prefer if we speak about this over breakfast? I’ll introduce you properly to some of the other people in the house. Now that you already know, it’s best to be perfectly transparent. I think some of them are eager to meet you- Some of them are so young that they haven’t met any human beings.” 

“Aren’t you-” 

“You know what I mean.” She huffed. “Nonmagical, completely normal human beings.”

Gabriel scowled. “Is there something wrong with being that way?” 

“No- Just… It’s different, Mr. Reyes. I’ll be back in ten minutes with breakfast, feel free to show yourself around the house. My rule about going upstairs still stands,  _ don’t  _ do it. Some of them will get upset if you barge in unannounced.” 

“How many people are in here?” He asked, mildly disturbed. 

“Hanzo, Genji, Reinhardt, Jamison, and sometimes Angela, although she’s been rather flighty lately.” She snickered to herself, covering her mouth with the heel of her hand. Some private joke Gabriel wasn’t in on. “Fareeha has a room, though she’s not here, like I said. You’ve met Jesse, obviously.” 

At the sound of his name, the mutt lying on the carpet looked up with a tentative wag of his tail. 

“I’ll be right back, Mr. Reyes.” With that, she got up, heading down the hallway again. “As I said, feel free to explore the ground floor now.” 

The day prior, he had been confined to the living room. At the time, it had pissed him off. All he really had the opportunity to do yesterday was sit on the floor and wait for Ana to make him food. While waiting for dinner he had paged through some of the books on the shelves, but they were in Arabic and he didn’t speak a lick of it. It wasn’t even like reading French or German or whatever else, because they didn’t even have letters he understood. 

He was glad he’d been patient, now. If he’d prowled the hall and accidentally caught Jamison taking a shit or something, his transition into this magical world would’ve been a hell of a lot more unpleasant.

He got up, trailing after Ana. She took a right to get into the kitchen, and he took a left, pulling the door open. It looked like a bedroom- A tiny little cot he ascribed to the pissed-off pixie was in one corner, made out of shredded tissue and leaf material. Some tiny little nuts, scraps of cloth, and shiny little trinkets sat near it, and Gabriel was struck by how it reminded him of some of the parks he played at when he was younger. He’d pretend acorns were little fairy cups and bottle caps were chairs and all that kind of stuff.

A pang of nostalgia jerked at his heart and he forced himself to stop thinking about it. 

There were feathers and beads and stuff hung from the low ceiling, and he batted them aside as he passed. The main thing in the room was a cauldron pushed up against the wall, currently empty. He wondered if she made potions and stuff out of whatever was in it. 

There was a shelf pushed up against one of the walls, full of materials Gabriel could hardly hazard a guess at. Feathers, shiny rocks, dried plants of all kinds, a multitude of insects, skins, pedals, liquids. Scales, claws, teeth, and whiskers, none of which he could confidently attribute to an animal he knew of, dominated the upper shelf. 

He didn’t touch, figuring leaving the strange witch stuff alone was probably a good idea. 

From a hole in the ceiling, the pixie fluttered in. 

“Hey.” Gabriel gave him a two-fingered wave.

“This is my room,” The pixie said. “Ana uses it sometimes, I guess. But it’s my room.” 

“Am I allowed in?” Gabriel asked diplomatically. “I’ll go if you want me to.” 

The pixie scrutinized him, then fluttered down to grasp Gabriel’s pinky finger. He gave it a tug, leading him towards what he had appraised as a bed.

“Sit down, asshole, you’re too tall,” The pixie barked. Gabriel obliged the little thing, crossing his legs as he sat. 

“Watch,” The pixie commanded. He opened up a tiny cabinet Gabriel hadn’t noticed, and pulled out a test tube that went up to his tiny chest. Gabriel leaned forward, pinching it between his fingers and holding it straight. 

“Thanks,” The pixie said, begrudgingly. He fluttered up to the shelf with all the ingredients, collecting a few leaves, some powdery stuff Gabriel had no name for, and a couple bits of bark. He poured the materials in, looking up expectantly at Gabriel.

“What?” 

“Spit in it.” 

“What?” 

“ _ Spit in it.”  _

“I heard you the first time,” Gabriel said, annoyed. 

“You gotta spit in it!” He gestured urgently.

“Why?” 

“Human spit is the only way this works, and since Ana’s a witch, her’s doesn’t work. The same with Pharah.” The pixie’s tone was sulking. “You’re the first human I’ve seen in a long time, so spit in it!” His wingtips fluttered. “Actually, I might need you to spit in a jar. As much spit as you can, because  _ Pharah’s  _ gonna be taking you back home soon-” 

“I’m not doing that.” 

“What!? You- You asshole! You cunt!” The pixie’s amber eyes were wide, betrayed, and Gabriel actually felt a little bad. His tiny fists banged against Gabriel’s thigh furiously. “That’s not fair!” 

“I’ll do it for this one, but you’re not collecting a jar of my spit. That’s disgusting,  _ chiquito. _ ” 

He drew his lips in like he’d just sucked on a lemon, scowling at Gabriel furiously. His scowl did no good, and eventually he conceded to Gabriel’s terms.

“Fine!” He muttered. “I didn’t want your human spit anyway. Cunt.” 

Gabriel gathered saliva in his cheek and spat into the test tube. The pixie, in turn, grabbed a tiny little stick lying by his bed and started merrily muddling the mixture. It turned an ugly, sludgy brown color.

“What is that supposed to be, anyway?” Gabriel asked. 

“Well, you’re just a dumb human, so I guess you wouldn’t know.” The pixie puffed his chest a little bit, wings twitching. “It’s a potion.” 

“That does?” 

“It’s a secret.” He rifled through the tiny cabinet, finding a stopper. He shoved it in, slamming his fist against the top to make sure it was tight. “I’m not telling.” 

“I helped you make it.” Gabriel pointed out, pushing down a flash of impatience. “Don’t you think I deserve to know?” 

“Okay, maybe.” The pixie tapped his fingers together, in thought. “You can’t tell anybody, though.” 

“I won’t,” Gabriel promised, cautiously.

“There’s a bunch of wood nymphs down the mountain, and I want to play a prank on them,” He whispered. “When you throw this, it smells terrible. Like a dead skunk mixed with shit mixed with-” 

“I get the idea.” Gabriel held up a hand. 

A knock rapped on the door. “Mr. Reyes, are you in there?” Ana’s voice.

“Oh fuck,” The pixie’s eyes widened in fear, and his wings drooped. He grabbed the vial and beat his wings especially hard so he and his precious cargo could disappear through the hole in the ceiling. Gabriel watched, mildly fascinated, then remembered that Ana had asked a question. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Breakfast’s ready. Be careful with the things in there, and don’t touch Jamison’s bedding, he gets upset very easily.” 

“I haven’t touched anything, don’t worry.” Gabriel hauled himself to his feet and turned around, heading for the door. He minded the feathers and beads, weaving to avoid them. When he exited the room, Ana was nowhere to be seen.

“Uh-?” 

“In the living room, Mr. Reyes.” She called. He diligently padded down the hallway and back to the faithful couch, sitting down heavily. 

Breakfast proved to be eggs, slices of tomato, and tea of indeterminate origin, alongside some kind of wheat or rye based porridge. It was warm and looked tasty, which was all he cared about. The eggs looked to be salted, and there were cute little berries he didn’t have a name for on top of the porridge. Sweetened with honey, maybe?

“Where do you get salt from?” 

“There are some saltwater streams in the forest.” She replied primly. “We barter with nymphs. Do you know what nymphs are?” 

“Jamison mentioned them.” He tried a slice of tomato. Seasoned. God, he was so  _ hungry.  _ He practically scarfed down the eggs. Definitely not chicken eggs. Tasted funny, but damn if it ain’t food. “They’re Greek, right? Roman? They’re forest spirits or something.” 

“Greek.” She corrected, watching him eat with some amusement on his face. “They annoy Jamison- Nymphs and pixies have a bit of a difficult relationship. Nymphs hold them in disregard as mischievous, filthy tricksters, while pixies think they’re stuck-up snobs. I personally believe both.” A smile broke out over her wrinkled face as she sipped her own tea. 

“Do they have names? The nymphs, I mean.” 

“Satya is the one we do the most trading with. Jamison doesn’t like her in the slightest.” 

“Hmm.” He tried a spoonful of porridge. Oh  _ yeah  _ it was sweetened with honey- Warm and delicious, he dove into that bowl and didn’t pull up for air until he was done devouring it completely. 

Ana coughed politely once he was finished licking stray oats from the inside of the bowl. 

“‘Scuse me.” Gabriel muttered sheepishly. “Tasted good.” 

“I get the feeling you haven’t been eating well for quite some time, Mr. Reyes.” 

His dream last night, where she was rooting through his fridge, came to mind. He felt tempted to ask if she’d invaded his dream somehow, but he figured he didn’t actually want to know the answer to that question. Best just pass it off as a weird dream. 

“I guess not.” 

“Mr. Reyes, have you considered…” She paused, jaw shifting as she considered how to phrase, and she scooted up in her chair a little bit. “Have you considered staying here, Mr. Reyes?” 

“What?” He asked, blinking in surprise. “Of course not. I have a job. A  _ life,  _ back home.” 

Her single eye burned with sympathy, and shame curdled Gabriel’s stomach, although he didn’t know why. 

He didn’t want her pity.

“Do you really, Mr. Reyes?” She asked, a hint of sadness shading her voice. “Are you happy with what you had before?” 

“Yes,” He responded, gritting his teeth. “I’m fine.” 

There was a silence that hung between him, and he knew this wasn’t gonna be the only time they had this conversation. His heart felt small and cold. 

“Alright, Mr. Reyes.” She said, voice soft and doubtful. “Finish your breakfast and I’ll introduce you to some of the others, how about that? I’m sure they’re eager to meet you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: Genji and Hanzo join the roster!


	4. Turnfeather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel meets Genji, Hanzo, and Angela, and recalls something from the night he was abducted.

Ana went upstairs ( to get some reading done ) and said she would tell everyone they had free range of the house again. She also advised him to stay with Jesse just in case, but didn’t say what kind of ‘just in case’ scenario. That made him nervous.

The first person to come downstairs was a young man. 

Japanese? Korean? Of Asian descent, certainly. His hair was black and silky, though cropped a little short. Mid-twenties, maybe? Possibly late twenties, Gabriel wasn’t particularly very good at reading ages. He was wearing a plain, sleeveless white gi, barefoot but with pieces of silver glinting in his left ear in the form of earrings, as well as something that resembled a steel crown on top of his head. He had a small, straight nose, slightly flared brows, clean-shaven. He was of a moderate build, maybe a little trim at the waist, not particularly very tall. Less than average, but not short. When he noticed Gabriel, he immediately brightened.

“You’re the guy!” He declared, a smile breaking out over his face. “The human!” 

“And you’re-” 

“Genji Shimada!” He strode up to Gabriel, offering out his hand. Gabriel reassessed him now that he was closer.

He looked… Good. Handsome. Very handsome. As a matter of fact, Gabriel found himself barely able to concentrate on anything but him. His arms were wiry but muscular, his smile charming, his eyes dark and promising some kind of promiscuous pleasure. His entire body seemed to radiate a certain warmth that made it very difficult to speak, think, or look away. The hell was this guy?

“Gh,” Gabriel forced himself to take his hand, and a shock passed through him. 

Uncomfortable, lusty heat pooled around his entire body, and he found himself blushing. Terror quaked through his thighs and he stumbled backward as though Genji’s hand had hurt him. What the fuck was this guy doing to him? Gabriel wasn’t gonna go lusting after this guy, he was a stranger and at least ten years younger, to boot. 

“The hell-” 

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Genji drew back, covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry, I forgot- Humans don’t do very well with vampires.”

“S’at what you are?” Gabriel asked, barely able to slur the words out. His heart beat uncomfortably fast, and he started to shake. He willed a physical reaction to not take place down south.

“Yes! My brother and I were both bit a hundred or so years ago- We only came to Ana’s reserve in the last decade, I think. I forgot what our mere presence did to people. That’s my bad.” He scratched the back of his neck apologetically. 

“Can you turn it off?” Gabriel asked, wincing through his teeth. He shut his eyes tightly, which alleviated most of the carnal feelings. Looks like it was sight based. 

“Turn off looking good?” He sounded severely disappointed. “I guess so. Maybe? I’d have to ask Hanzo, he was always a lot better at it than me. Get it? ‘Cos he’s ugly?” 

“Sure.” Gabriel muttered. 

“I’ll be right back, don’t wait up.” There was the soft patter of footsteps, and Gabriel let out a soft breath of relief when they faded out of earshot.

He peeled his eyes open and went back to the couch. 

He never wanted to see another person in this household.

Jesse looked up at him questioningly, and Gabriel made little shooing gestures with his hands. “I don’t care what Ana said, I can take care of myself. Go away. Go upstairs or something.” 

Jesse chose to pad up to him and place his head in Gabriel’s lap, pleading brown eyes looking up imploringly into his. 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, pursing his lips. Jesse didn’t reply ( duh, he was a dog ) and wagged his tail. He put a paw on the couch, wriggling awkwardly as he attempted to climb into Gabriel’s lap.

“No! No, you idiot, you’re massive, you’re not gonna fit-” 

Jesse climbed on top of him, nearly crushing him with his massive furry body, limbs splayed. Gabriel struggled, attempting to push him off, to very little success because he was a bigass dog and he didn’t want to hurt him that bad. 

“Get off!” Gabriel demanded, glaring down at him. The dog’s eyelids were half-lidded, jaws parted and pink tongue bouncing with every one of his breaths. “I mean it, asshole, get off!” 

“Jesse!” A new voice barked, and Gabriel steeled himself for the worst. 

Descending the stairs was a pretty handsome man. Long, glossy black hair tied back in a ponytail with a yellow scarf, a forelock of hair left hanging free, assumedly just to look good. He was in his early thirties, nearest Gabriel could tell. He had sharp, intelligent eyes, almond shaped and brown, and Gabriel suspected that he was wearing winged eyeliner, though he couldn’t prove it without the man coming closer. He had thick lips, a defined jaw and chin only accentuated by his short beard, an upturned look to his face that made him look incredibly prideful and authoritative. He wore the exact same thing as Genji, with the exception of the gi being black, and him being sans earrings and crown thing. He wasn’t barefoot, either. Gabriel didn’t know what the exact name of his footwear was, but he hazarded a guess and called them boots. Damn guy needed to work out his calves more, his ankles were tiny. 

He had the same supernatural beauty as Genji, though without the most unpleasant lust Gabriel had ever been though. He pinned this guy as being the brother Genji had mentioned.

“Jesse, you get off him this instant! He is an  _ honored guest,  _ and treating him like a rug is not  _ honoring him!”  _ The man raged, marching over. Jesse hopped off of the couch ( and by extension, Gabriel ) as soon as this new guy drew close enough, ears flattening against his skull and tail drifting between his legs. He skittered to the other side of the room, having the decency to look ashamed, at least. 

“Thanks.” Gabriel offered tentatively.

“Ana needs to discipline him better,” Is all he said, shooting a glare in the werewolf’s direction. Jesse whimpered pathetically. 

“Are you the brother Genji mentioned?” Gabriel interrupted before he could beat up on the poor wolfman anymore. The ( probably a vampire ) looked up at that, sweeping his gaze critically up and down Gabriel’s figure. 

“Yes. Hanzo Shimada, at your service.” 

“Gabriel Reyes. Good to meet you. You’re a vampire, like Genji?” 

“Yes, that’s right. You’re human.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Tell me.” The vampire’s movements were fluid- like silk being draped, and Gabriel had to force his breathing to keep steady. Damn vampire assholes and their supernatural beauty. He sat down next to Gabriel on the couch, disdainfully dusting brown fur Jesse had shed off the cushions. Even sitting casually, he was unnaturally graceful and goddamn  _ gorgeous.  _ Gabriel hated this magic shit. “What walk of life have you taken, Reyes-san?” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Job. What menial labor have you decided to undertake with your limited mortality?” 

“Police officer.” 

“Admirable, I suppose. Risking your lives for others is a noble job. Others would disagree. What would you say to those others?” 

“I’m an officer, not a criminal. Cut out the interrogation.” Gabriel snapped back. This guy was rubbing him the wrong way. Gabriel loathed being treated like he was an idiot, and Hanzo was managing to stroke that particular gland of hatred pretty well. 

“Forgive me.” Hanzo said, with a fluid shrug. “I know that everyone- including myself- is going mad with boredom on this mountaintop, which draws us to you. You are an unknown quantity, which makes you an item of interest. An abrupt and mysterious buoy in the middle of an isolated sea, if you will. We know next to nothing about you, other than your status as a pure human; curiosity is natural.” 

Gabriel suppressed his hatred in exchange for civility. “If you say so.” 

“You’re also the first whole-blooded human I have encountered in nearly a decade.” His eyelids fluttered, a surprisingly sinful expression overtaking his face. He breathed a little too deeply. “Genji and I were borderline rabid last night, trying to sleep with your smell in our nostrils. I expect we were not the only ones affected. Human scent is  _ maddening  _ for some of us.” 

Gabriel’s hand closed around his combat knife. 

“We are better restrained than that, Reyes-san.” Hanzo assured him. “Your blood will stay inside your veins.”

“It’d better.” Gabriel said, attempting to sound threatening. The vampire’s glance was full of pity instead of fear. Fuck. 

“Trust me, Reyes-san.” His eyes were thin white slits through his lashes, and he continued in a much louder voice: “Have you met everyone in the house yet?” 

“I had a conversation with your brother earlier. I’ve met Jesse, Jamison, and Ana.” All these new names. Were those even the right ones? He supposed it didn’t matter; he’d be corrected if he was wrong. 

“Angela and Wilhelm will take some time to get used to. I would suggest having someone with you when Wilhelm gets here. He is very fond of hugging, and you may need someone to pry him off you.” He said ‘hugging’ with a good measure of disdain, making Gabriel arch an eyebrow.

“Didn’t get very many mommy kisses, did you?” Gabriel asked, corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. 

“No, I didn’t.” He said, blunt. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

Jesse rose to his paws and moved closer, laying his muzzle on Hanzo’s knee. Gabriel thought, based on earlier, that he’d smack the werewolf away, but he started idly stroking Jesse’s muzzle. 

“Hanzoooo!” 

The vampire beside him barely bit back an annoyed groan, closing his eyes. Gabriel looked down the hallway, where Genji was confidently striding towards them. 

“Oh, you found the human,” He glanced towards Hanzo. “Do we get to-” 

“You’re not feeding from him and you’re not sleeping with him.” Hanzo interrupted. “Honestly, Genji, you’re ninety-three years old. He’s a guest,  _ behave  _ yourself.” 

Ninety three? Jesus Christ. He had to instinctively bite back from referring to Genji as a kid, both out loud and in his head. He was over double Gabriel’s age, but he looked like he was probably only a little more than half.

“Oh, come on,  _ niiiii-san.”  _ He dragged out the first syllable, sliding into the space between Gabriel and Hanzo, hooking his arms around both of their shoulders. Gabriel sensed he wanted no part of this. “I haven’t had anybody in ages. Besides, it’ll  _ rock his world.  _ Wouldn’t you like that?” A friendly smile to Gabriel, tiny fang-tips making divots in his lower lip. Gabriel slammed his eyes shut, exhaling hard. The vampire was  _ warm,  _ and the side of his chest pressing up against Gabriel’s flank almost made him groan. God was tempting him. 

He said and did nothing but shiver, as Genji’s fingers danced over his shoulder, featherlight touches teasingly trailing down his back. He jolted when he felt hot breath on his neck, eyes snapping open to see the vampire’s lips very nearly wrapped around his throat. He could see the man’s thin, fanged teeth, and even though he was terrified, he found himself unable to move a single muscle. Waves and waves of lust and fear crashed together, paralyzing him. It was a horribly  _ violating sensation,  _ and he wished he could pull away, but he just couldn’t move. 

“GENJI! What did I just say, fool?” The older vampire whacked his brother over the head, knocking him off the couch and onto the floor. Genji sputtered incoherently in rage, and Gabriel was snapped free of his trance, startled enough to get up off the couch and back away. 

As his mind whirled and his thoughts were returned to him, he cursed loudly and extensively, passing Genji by and heading into Jamison’s room, slamming the door behind him and sitting down. Luckily it swung in and not out, so he could put his back to the door and bar it from everyone. 

The feathers and beads hung from the ceiling shook from the motion of the slammed door, and Gabriel attempted to keep himself together.

He’s not going to be treated like a fucking object, and  _ nobody  _ is allowed to fuck around with his head and his feelings. That asshole vampire comes near him again and it’s going to get a fucking shanking. 

Either nobody cared about him enough to come talk to him after the door-slamming outburst, or they figured that maybe he was best left alone, because no one came after him. He was pretty glad about it, because if someone tried to get in immediately after he stomped in he’d probably try to kill them. 

He was allowed to sit on the floor with his thoughts for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a couple of minutes. He wished he had brought a watch, but if he’d known he would be kidnapped and brought to a mountain in the middle of nowhere, he would’ve brought a whole list of other things. A phone, a watch, the rest of his police uniform ( more particularly his police-issue Glock ) and if he’d known about those vampires, he would’ve brought some holy water, a handful of crosses, and enough garlic to feed an entire Italian family.

Footsteps passed by the door occasionally, some of them pausing by the door Gabriel barred almost nervously, then hurried on at an increasing speed. 

Down at the office, Gabriel’s bad moods were almost legendary. When he was upset, people got out of his way. He had seen a young officer, barely acquiring his badge, leap out of his path and crash into a filing cabinet in haste to keep away from him when he was mad. A pissed-off Gabriel was a bad Gabriel, and even Liao didn’t give him shit when he was angry. Usually he was left to burn off steam at his desk, occasionally flagged down by Liao and told to chill the hell out, but she was ignored for the most part.

He had almost strangled one of his fellow office workers, an intelligent forensics specialist named Athena, when she had turned up on a bad day and given him worse news about the blood results she’d run. Her husband ( they weren’t married or even dating at this particular moment, but they married later ) Winston,  _ the  _ biggest person Gabriel had ever seen, had defended her and hit Gabriel so hard he’d been knocked clear off his feet and into a wall. Winston had tenderly asked Athena if she was okay, and sometime after they’d started dating. After this incident, Gabriel liked to credit himself as the person who prompted their relationship and resulting marriage.

He lost points because he’d been the villain in the situation, but still. Someone had to be the bad guy, or the good guys wouldn’t get their love interest. 

“Mr. Reyes?” There was a light knock on the door, Ana’s voice. Gabriel grunted and slammed his fist against it in reply.

“Not right now.” 

“Mr. Reyes, you’ve been in there for an hour, now. I’m concerned for you.” 

“Yeah?” He replied, uncharacteristically churlish. “I don’t  _ want  _ or  _ need  _ your concern.” 

“Mr.  _ Reyes.”  _ She sounded almost exasperated, shifting outside. Her voice was much closer to his head when she spoke, and he perked, because he was pretty sure she was kneeling. “I understand this… this isn’t what you wanted out of your experience here. I understand that your time here might be difficult, and you are most definitely owed an apology.” 

“I don’t want an apology.” Gabriel said, sour. “I want to go home and get back to my  _ job,  _ surprisingly enough. I don’t want any part of this fucking madhouse, thank you very  _ fucking  _ much.” 

She went silent, and Gabriel wondered if he went a little too far with that one. Oh well. No room for regrets anymore. It was something from  _ her  _ world that had brought him out here, that had brought him from the familiarity of home, his friends, his job. This was her fault, as far as he was concerned, and that meant he could be a little rude.

“Could you come out, at least?” She asked, voice exceedingly gentle. It made Gabriel feel a  _ little  _ bit guilty for being an asshole. 

“I think I’d rather stay here and wait for your daughter.” Gabriel said, voice a couple shades less hostile. 

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” A disappointed sigh, and she must’ve gotten up and gone, because he heard retreating footsteps. 

Great. All alone again. 

He’d locked himself in a closet when he was seven and had cried so hard he genuinely couldn’t breathe, and thought he was going to die, which made him cry more. The coats he had hid under in the closet and the feathers hanging from the ceiling blurred together, and he scraped at his eyes with his fingertips, attempting to shake out the thought. To his surprise, the pads of his fingers were drawn back moist. That unnerved him more than anything- he shouldn’t be crying. Not right now, he wasn’t even that  _ upset.  _

Maybe he was. 

He exhaled shakily. He guessed maybe this was a lot to take in, mentally. Magical creatures, magical creatures who could mess around with his  _ mind,  _ make him feel hot and bothered against his will, just by merely a glance. It was more  _ invasive  _ than arousal, more  _ violating,  _ and Gabriel was completely certain that the vampire had no fucking idea just how helpless and defiled his ( magic? ) made humans feel. He also got the feeling that maybe he wouldn’t care even if he  _ did  _ know. 

_ You’re just being bitter,  _ Gabriel breathed slowly, trying to calm himself down. Liao had always coached him to breathe in for eight and out for fifteen seconds if he was upset or angry- he repeated her instruction about a dozen times, until he felt… A little bit better. He felt slightly hollow and broken, but he hadn’t shed a single tear and he didn’t feel like absolute shit anymore. 

Progress was progress. Liao must’ve said that a billion times. God, he missed Liao. She probably would’ve taken this better than he did, in all honesty. 

He got up- He nearly fell over, damn legs fell asleep- and had to use a hand to steady himself on the wall. 

He opened the door, reluctantly trudging out and into the hallway. No one immediately assaulted him, which was nice.

He wandered into living room, where Ana was quietly reading, a cup of tea next to her. She looked up as he ambled in, sympathy filling her single eye. 

“You look terrible, Mr. Reyes.” 

“I feel terrible.” He replied, mustering energy for the conversation he knew she was bound to have. “I’m sorry about earlier.” 

“I don’t blame you for it.” She sighed. “It can be a lot to take in, Mr. Reyes. When I was first told I was a witch… I was better about it, because I was a child, but if I had been dropped into this the way you were, I don’t think I could’ve handled it. You’re doing well, Mr. Reyes.” 

She leaned forward to affectionately take his hand in hers, squeezing lightly. That made his expression soften. 

“Genji has had a strict scolding. He’s out doing chores now because of it.” Ana added kindly. “Tending the garden, sweeping, cleaning.” 

“I don’t think that’ll teach him anything.” Gabriel muttered. Typically the only way some of the punks and ingrates at the station learned was through someone muscling them into listening. Now, sure, you couldn’t  _ legally  _ taze someone because it was abuse, but if you walked in with it very obviously in your belt and attempted to look genuinely imposing, they were typically spooked enough to stop giving you sass or to invoke their fifth. 

“What would you have suggested, Mr. Reyes?” Ana asked. 

“Something more violent, probably. He reminds me of some of the kids we catch spraypainting or throwing rocks at windows.” 

She sipped her tea. “Well, maybe you two should- Oh, hello, Angela.” She tilted her head until she was looking past Gabriel, and the cop turned to take a look. 

She was young- early thirties, maybe? Hair gathered up in a messy ponytail, a few shades more golden than white. She had warm blue eyes, long lashes, and small lips, accompanied by a button nose. She had a certain tone of seriousness to her face, almost like a strict mother. She was thin, hourglass shaped, and tall for a woman. She wore relatively light clothing- a white tank-top with those tiny little spaghetti straps, and a pair of grey sweatpants that’d been cut off almost mid-thigh. Sweatshorts, he guessed. 

There was the other thing that Gabriel had failed to mention was the fact that she appeared to be half bird. 

Her arms were broken up into wings, of a kind- They were white and glossy, feathered, tips stained a light yellow a couple shades more vivid than her hair. At the joint of the wing, she had four-fingered hands, kind of like one of those half-bird half-dinosaur things. Gabriel wondered if it made doing things difficult; if you were dragging around all those feathers, wouldn’t they get stuck in things? 

She also had bird feet. Scaly talons from the knee down, although not vicious like a raptor’s, more like a songbird’s, but scaled up to be huge. Gabriel thought he spotted a bird tail behind her, but he can’t see behind her very well.

“Hello, Ana.” A vaguely European accent- German? Swiss? Something else? 

Gabriel was struck with a thick sense of familiarity- He stared at her closer, trying to gauge if he knew her, but she was a freaky bird lady, of  _ course  _ he hadn’t met her. So why did she seem so  _ familiar?  _ The niggling, frustrating feeling of knowing who she was and where he’d met her was on the  _ tip of his tongue. _

“Do I know you?” Gabriel interjected. Maybe she knew. “I think- I think we’ve met before.” 

“I don’t think so,” Angela said mildly. “I’m sure you would’ve remembered.” 

“No- We’ve met, we’ve met. I remember you.” Gabriel grew gradually more and more certain, though he had no actual proof or even a memory of it happening. 

“Mr. Reyes, that’s impossible. Angela has been with us for several years, and hasn’t left this forest in that time.” 

“No, I-” Gabriel pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “I know…” 

_ = _

_ Rain plunked down on the freshly paved road, the scent of wet asphalt hanging in his nose. The sky was black, stars covered by the heavy clouds, a winter chill permeating the air. The sound of the droplets battering his umbrella and the ground was oddly soothing, and he took a deep breath, delighting in the dampness of the air and how the cold stung his nostrils.  _

_ Gabriel whistled softly to himself as he walked home, streetlamps glowing warmly overhead and illuminating sheets of rain as he moved slowly beneath them. Most people were shut in their homes due to the bad weather and the time of night, which meant he was mostly alone. For now, he could imagine the entirety of LA was abandoned and he got to walk a barren city at night. For some reason, the thought was oddly comforting. _

_ A car drove past, sending up a spray from the water that had accumulated on the side of the road- Gabriel turned his umbrella to protect himself from the nine foot wave, then went on his merry way. He wondered what somebody would be doing, driving around in the middle of the night. He guessed he looked no better- Black man in a hoodie wandering around at two in the morning. If the guys at the station didn’t know who he was, he’d probably be shot.  _

_ He heard a splash from somewhere behind him, and turned around to look- a woman looked back at him, startled. White woman, bundled up against the cold, thin and weak. Shit. He prayed to God that she didn’t have mace or something on her. He lifted up the hand not holding the umbrella in a gesture of peace- She didn’t relax in the slightest.  _

_ “It’s alright!” Gabriel hollered at her.  _

_ She looked like she’d showered wearing clothes. Her entire body was sopping wet- Her baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt looked like they must’ve weighed her down quite a bit, and Gabriel fought down the urge to comfort her. Outside of uniform, he looked like your average LA thug, and although he seriously wanted to help, he had to tamp it down out of fear for his own safety. Goddamnit.  _

_ “Sir?” She called, voice thin and quiet over the rain. “Are you Gabriel?”  _

_ “Am I…” He frowned. “Yeah! Gabriel, Gabriel Reyes. I’m a cop, you don’t need to be scared, I promise.”  _

_ She turned and fled, and Gabriel noticed she ran with a distinctive limping movement, like both of her legs had been broken and reset. He hoped she wasn’t some kind of drug user. Maybe he shouldn’t have said his name and profession, but what pretty little white ladies had connections to crime? Probably more than stereotyped, but still.  _

_ He couldn’t enjoy the rest of his walk home after that, and he jogged back home, inwardly worried. He didn’t have time to worry if someone was tracking his movements, though; he had a shift to get to in seven hours, which pinned him down for only a couple hours’ sleep. Tomorrow was not gonna be a fun day, he knew that much. _

=

“ _ Mr. Reyes.” _

He blinked, head swimming.

“Mr. Reyes! Gabriel!” 

“What? What?” Gabriel jerked, blinking in surprise. He was on his back, looking up, and he tried to push himself up since he was pretty sure Liao was yelling at him for sleeping on the job again. Was definitely not Liao, because that was Ana’s ceiling and her firm hand pushing him back down.

“You went still and stared at Angela for over thirty seconds. When we tried to rouse you, you didn’t respond- you just stared dead forward. We tried smelling salts, hitting, bright lights, even potions, but nothing snapped you out of it. It was like you’d gone into a coma. What happened?” 

“I remembered…” Gabriel exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes. He felt unusually tired. “Angela was there. She’s…” 

“Gone.” Hanzo stood by Gabriel’s head, dark eyes smoldering. “Genji says he saw her flying away a few minutes ago. She’s finally shown her true colors- She's a traitor.”  __

 


	5. The Coup of the Swoop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo organizes a harpy hunt. Gabriel meets Reinhardt, learns how to pick fruit, learns how to make jams, and recounts several strange memories and dreams.

“Traitor?” Gabriel echoed, blinking.

“She lied to us,” Hanzo seethed.

“No she didn’t,” Ana countered. “We don’t know why she ran.”

“I do,” Hanzo spat. “It’s because she is a _traitor,_ Amari.”

“Let’s wait until she has time to explain herself, Hanzo.” She held up a hand for peace, but he opened his mouth to make his opinion be known regardless.

“Hold _on!”_ Gabriel objected, interjecting between the two of them. “What the _hell_ are you _talking_ about?”

“Angela is a harpy!” Hanzo said, like that was all the explanation he needed. “Harpies are some of the most untrustworthy creatures that walk this earth. They are savages, barbarians- Angela’s kindness, her shyness, was a complete and total farce, and _Ana_ was fool enough to fall in her snare!”

A subconscious shiver ran up Gabriel’s spine as he recalled the fear in her eyes the night of his kidnapping. Had she been faking it? Was she bait? And if she was bait, why for _him?_ As Ana and the vampires had emphasized, he was a pure-blooded mortal man. God, he hoped he wasn’t a chosen one or some shit. That was supposed to happen to younger people, though, wasn’t it? In YA novels the protagonist was always a teenager.

_This isn’t a novel, you fucking idiot. This is real life, and you were fucking kidnapped and brought into the woods by a mysterious harpy lady._

“There are good harpies!” Ana swatted Hanzo aside, away from Gabriel. “You’re not allowed to set biases into the unaware, Hanzo, keep your opinions to yourself.”

“Ana, I remember. I remember more about that night. She was there.” Gabriel said, slightly numb. “She was there when I was walking home. She asked me what my name was, then ran away.”

Hanzo’s eyes blazed with triumph. “See! What would she be doing in a _human city,_ next to _this man,_ if not for stealing him away? If nothing, it has proved she’s lied to us about staying in the forest!”

“Hanzo, we’re not going on a witch hunt. Angela will come back and explain herself.” Ana tried to persuade him down, but he was having none of it. If anything, it strengthened his resolve.

“Of course there won’t be a witch hunt- It’ll be a harpy hunt.” He barked. “Jesse, come with me.”

The mutt, who had been silently watching the proceedings in the corner, jerked in surprise at his name.

“Shimada!” Ana objected, grabbing him by the front of his gi- He pulled away, scowling, and headed for the front door. Jesse bounded after him loyally, tail wagging as they left the house. That tail was the last glimpse Gabriel caught before the vampire slammed the door behind him.

Ana exhaled sharply, shaking her head in what Gabriel guessed was anger. Gabriel gave her a minute before clearing his throat and asking, “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Hanzo has mistrusted her ever since she walked in the door.” Ana said, frustration flaring in her eyes. “The stereotype of harpies is parallel to the human concept of… vultures. Savage thieves that pick at rotting flesh to get a meal. Beggars that won’t be scared to resort to thievery if they fail at begging. There are kind, intelligent, beautiful harpies, but Hanzo doesn’t believe she doesn’t have an ulterior motive.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I think she does.”

“We’re trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, Gabriel.” Ana suddenly looked much… Older. Her eyes were half-lidded, and tiredness was carved into every feature. Gabriel felt a tiny bit bad for accusing the harpy of deception, but his memory of her was the latest and best piece of the puzzle they had. She had been _there,_ and he _knew_ she had. His recollection of the event was so vivid there was no way it couldn’t have been fake.

“Does she deserve it?” Gabriel asked, keeping his voice low. He was trying to not be harsh, but…

“Yes.” Ana tossed her head up, single eye blazing with fury. Gabriel had to hold back a wince and look away under her stare. “Yes, she does.”

“Alright.” He said, delicately.

There was a familiar hum, and Jamison fluttered out of a circular hole in the ceiling, nearly identical to the one in Ana’s potion room. Were they all over the house? He guessed a pixie couldn’t exactly open doors.

“Hiya, cunts!” Jamison’s cheery voice was a bit jarring, compared to the anger that’d been bouncing around the room for the past ten minutes. “Oh, the human’s conscious again. I thought you were gonna be paralyzed forever, you drongo.”

Gabriel glanced at Ana for help, whispering, “How did you even get an Australian out here?”

She shook her head and mouthed “Later”. Gabriel intended for her to make good on that, but momentarily turned his attention to the pixie.

“Guess not.” Gabriel replied to Jamison with a slight incline of his head.

“Shame. Angela could fix you right up! She’s a healer, you know. I mean, so’s Ana, but she’s a bloody _brilliant_ healer, yeah? I lost one of my wings and she jus’ fixed it right back on!”

Gabriel’s expression soured, and Ana must’ve noticed, because she laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. _Don’t spoil this for him._

“If Angela flew away, where would she go?” Gabriel asked.

“Ooh, I could go try to get her! She may be big, but I fly jus’ as fast.” Jamison bragged. “I know all the places she goes, too.”

“That would be very helpful, Jamison. She left a few minutes ago and we’re concerned about her.” Ana instructed. “Bring her back if you can, and if you can’t, tell us where she is.”

“No problem!” His little wings fluttered pointedly, and he darted back through that hole in the ceiling.

“Well, everyone’s on a manhunt now.” Gabriel sighed quietly. “What do we do in the meantime?”

“Nothing rigorous for you.” She said critically, eye sweeping over his form. “I’ve got some gardening that needs doing.”

“Gardening? You’re not serious. Do I look like a gardener?”

“I’m very serious, Mr. Reyes.” Her tone was amused as she leaned forward, fingers curling underneath Gabriel’s back, clasping one of his big hands in hers. “Let me see if I can help you up...”

=

_He opened the drawer beside the door, dropping his phone in and shutting it in a few deft, sharp movements. He opened the apartment door, headed back outside, and shook off his umbrella. He went back in the house, wiping his feet off, and propped the umbrella against the wall. Chances were it’d be raining again tomorrow._

_He locked the apartment door, the click soothing his still-ruffled feathers after meeting the woman that night. He fastened the bolt on chain-bolt lock, the assurance of two safeguards keeping some of his rampant paranoia at bay. No one had ever tried to break in ( surprising for LA ) but with that woman he’d encountered, you could never be too careful. He got a creeping, sneaking feeling that something bad was about to happen tonight, and he wasn’t going to be caught off guard in case his feelings were more than just feelings._

_He hurriedly flipped on the apartment lights, taking a cursory poke around the room just in case. He’d been rattled by the woman he’d met on the walk home worse than he had initially appraised; he kept his boots on and didn’t bother pulling the knife out of the heel, just in case. He ferreted through the bathroom, checking for human intruders and other pests ( his entire apartment building was having rat problems ) and found nothing but a handful of droppings. Satisfied he was alone, he got to pee in peace._

_He headed back out into the main part of the apartment, the living room/kitchen combo. He grabbed a slice of stale pizza out of the fridge, but at least it tasted pretty good cold._

_Everything was exactly as he’d left it. TV dusty, couch worn, counters dirty, dishes undone, toilet paper in desperate need of replacing, probably needed to do laundry. He grabbed a spare blanket from a box near the couch, a knitted quilt his grandmother had made him before she died. He curled up on the couch instead of going into his designated bedroom. There was a vague, gut-churning feeling of uncertainty and fear whenever he looked to the plain white door._

_He laughed at himself for thinking that way, but all the same, he slept on the couch that night._

=

“Mr. Reyes?”

“Wha?”

“You spaced out again.”

“I remembered going home.” He exhaled deeply. “I’m getting bits and pieces, Amari. I remember… Being scared of my bedroom that night. Seeing Angela. Sleeping on the couch. It was raining.”

“Nothing on who actually abducted you?” Ana asked hopefully.

“No. Not yet.” Gabriel said, voice slightly reluctant. “Sorry.”

“That’s disappointing, but it’s not the end of the world.” Ana comforted him. “It’s helping us unravel this mystery, piece by piece. That’s good, no matter how you put it.”

“I guess so.”

“No need to mope, Mr. Reyes. Come on.” She helped him up, and he wobbled just the slightest bit. “I think I should put you on light chores, just in case you get one of these flashbacks again. How good are you at picking vegetables?”

“Decent?” Gabriel guessed. “I’ve never had a garden.”

“You should consider one if you go home.”

Gabriel noticed the _if_ quite distinctly. Was she still beating the drum about him staying here?

He wondered if she and Angela were in cahoots. Maybe she’d taken him here and Ana was manipulating him to stay for some sinister purpose. Of course, that could _also_ be his rampant, plaguing paranoia talking. It came from growing up in a shit neighborhood with shit parents that would sooner ignore or beat him than treat him like a human being, and going into a career where you could die at any minute.

“Maybe. I’m not home a lot, so I don’t know if I could take care of a plant.”

“I’m sure you could find time, Mr. Reyes.” She said comfortingly. She lead him out of the house and into a backyard he hadn’t noticed. There were rows and rows and rows of wooden shelves, dotted with vegetation he had only ever seen in gardens and the sort. He could spot some spaces dedicated to of what he guessed was wheat, a couple fruit-bearing trees, and berry bushes. Then there were other weird plants- this coiling thing with black leaves and purple flowers, plants with a veritable rainbow of flower colors, and all kinds of leaf shapes and sizes.

“What _is_ all of this?” He passed by a potted plant full of rich, dark soil and a couple tiny green sprouts. They smelled strongly of mint, though he guessed that wasn’t actually what they were. He spotted clumps of clover and grass of varying lengths, along with vines bearing fat, red tomatoes.

“Plants, Mr. Reyes, I thought you could guess that.”

He rolled his eyes. “I mean, why do you _have_ all of this?”

“I need them for potions and for food.” She replied, amused. “Go grab a basket and get me some tomatoes. If you see any green spots, don’t pick them.”

“I know what ripe fruit looks like,” Gabriel defended himself, wounded. “I’ve been to the store before.”

“Forgive me for saying it then, Mr. Reyes, but if you pick any bad fruit I’m making you eat it.” She harrumphed, her voice good-natured.

“It’s better than no food at all.” His thumb ran over the smooth surface of one of the fruits, and he brushed aside leaves and vines, looking for the fresh green of an unripe tomato. Nope. This one was fat, round, and juicy, still firm when Gabriel gave it a tiny squeeze.

“Uh, you mentioned a basket-”

Ana unceremoniously chucked a wicker basket at him, and he caught it without fumbling too badly.

“Good catch, Mr. Reyes.”

“Thanks.”

He plucked the tomato off its vine, depositing it in the basket and moving on to the next one.

“Get me five or six, Mr. Reyes, then move on to the dates; get a few dozen, then the strawberries. If you’d like, you can join me for jam-making after lunch.”

“Sure,” He said automatically, examining a tomato.

“Reinhardt will be joining us; he should be back from getting firewood and meat.”

“What is he?” Gabriel asked her warily, leaning over to take a peep at another one of the fruits. Too small, in his opinion, but it wasn't green, so he picked it anyway.

“Hmm?” Ana asked. “Oh- He’s half giant. He’s charming, for being what he is. Certainly the most responsible person here.”

“Not you?” Gabriel asked, amused. She chuckled in turn.

“He is better at keeping the people here in check. He is a wonderful storyteller- If you ask, he will talk for hours. You should request a telling while we’re making jam.” Her voice was distant, faraway, and Gabriel snorted to himself. She sounded exactly like Winston when he talked about his wife.

“Something amusing about the tomatoes?” Ana asked.

“Nope.” Gabriel plucked another one. Maybe now she’d get a taste of the ‘getting left in the dark’ thing that everyone on this mountainside was fond of doing to him. She didn't pry, but he was sure he heard a disapproving huff.

Ana had to direct him towards the date tree once he was done gathering tomatoes. This one she did have to help him with, because he wasn’t sure what a ripe date was supposed to look like. Hell, he was pretty sure he’d never even seen a date before. He gathered a couple dozen under her supervision before Ana directed him to stop, then pawed through his collection. She said it was alright and he could move on to strawberries, and took over date collecting herself.

He plucked a ton of strawberries, watching for insect bites and the pale green of an unripened berry. She came over and warned him about overripe strawberries, then drifted back in the house. He brought her back an entire basket full of them, and she appraised them as good enough for jam.

“We’re having a light lunch. You aren’t vegetarian, are you, Mr. Reyes?”

“I’m not.” He replied.

“Have you ever had venison?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?”

“It’s flavor is rather strong. Do you want to try some? I’m sure we have fish around here somewhere if you’d prefer it.”

He grimaced. “I hate fish.”

The corner of her mouth quirked, amused. “Alright then, Mr. Reyes. Deer it is.”

There was a sharp banging at the door, nearly causing Gabriel to jump out of his skin, and Ana pursed her lips. “That must be Wilhelm. Let him in for me while I make lunch?”

She disappeared into the room he assumed was the kitchen, and Gabriel went to the front door. Apprehension held him captive for a moment, but he took a deep breath and muttered “fuck it” under his breath.

He opened the door.

He outclassed Winston as the biggest man he’d ever seen. Damn guy was probably seven and a half feet half or more, and Gabriel goggled up at him, blinking rapidly in surprise. It didn’t help he had a flowing white beard, a huge scar over one eye, the biggest pair of muscles Gabriel had ever seen, and a massive deer carcass over one shoulder.

“Holy shit,” Gabriel said, unable to suppress the subconscious instinct to say it.

The giant’s face split into a broad grin upon sighting him, and Gabriel sensed the oncoming hug only a split second before it happened.

The breath was crushed clean out of his lungs, leaving him wheezing, and he was ninety nine percent sure his spine was going to snap cleanly in two. His life flashed before his eyes and he realized just how much it sucked.

The deer carcass fell off the giant’s shoulder and onto the floor with what would’ve been a comical splat, had he not been fearing he’d be hugged to death by an old man/giant hybrid.

“Where have you been hiding _this,_ Ana?” The man bellowed. He had a naturally loud, boisterous voice, Gabriel guessed. The giant continued hugging Gabriel even as he lumbered into the kitchen. “A human, Ana!”

“Wh-” He heard the clank of silverware, but since his face was currently clamped against the giant’s pec, he couldn’t see her. “Wilhelm! Put him down, you’re going to smother him!”

He was starting to feel lightheaded, honestly.

“He’s fine, Ana! Humans are sturdier than you think!”

“I mean it, Reinhardt, put him DOWN!”

Reluctantly, the giant loosened his grip, and kneeled to set Gabriel back on the ground. Gabriel took a deep, choking breath, then felt his ribs to make sure nothing had snapped. Christ, that guy hugged like a monster.

_He is one, Gabe._

He started coughing, and Ana’s fingers gently crawled their way up his ribcage, corroborating what he already knew about his bones being intact. “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Reyes-”

“I’m not hurt,” He said grumpily, pushing her away. “I don’t need to be fussed over.”

“I think I underestimated myself.” Wilhelm ( Reinhardt? ) said apologetically. “Or overestimated humans. I am sorry. I have not encountered mankind in quite some time.”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel insisted, thoroughly ruffled. “Ana said your name was Wilhelm?”

“Reinhardt is my preference.” The giant corrected. “I don’t know _you,_ however.”

“Gabriel Reyes.”

“A fitting name.”

“I guess?” Gabriel shrugged just the slightest bit. The giant’s loud yelling-but-not-yelling was starting to hurt his ears.

“Reinhardt, quit bothering him. Help me make lunch.” She said, voice disapproving. “Mr. Reyes, you can join us for jam-making after we eat.”

Gabriel obediently headed back into the living room, though not after taking a glance around the kitchen. He got quick details- A sink, a large stovetop, several cabinets, pantries, a large table, herbs and cloves of garlic or whatever hanging from a rack from the ceiling. Dirty dishes in the sink. Two windows, the curtains drawn.

He closed the door behind himself and went back to the couch, attempting to chase off the boredom that came from sitting in the same room for an indeterminate amount of time. He chose to pick at an unhealed scar on the back of his wrist, wincing as he scratched too hard and accidentally ripped a piece of it off. It didn’t do any more than lightly bead a dot of blood, and he wiped it off on the sleeve opposite that wrist.

He heard a shift in the room above them, and down the stairs came Genji. Gabriel instinctively tensed upon seeing him, fingers heading for the hoodie pocket where he stashed his combat knife.

“Could you try to not do that?”

“Do what?” Gabriel asked warily.

“Bleed.” Genji said, wrinkling his nose. “I’m starving and you’re not helping. It’s like watching a steak walk around when you haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours.”

“You try that and I’m going to stab you.”

“Pfff. As if you’d be fast enough. Besides, once I bit you, you wouldn’t want me to stop.” Genji winked. “Vampire venom is a hell of a thing.”

“Are you trying to get me to not like you?” Gabriel asked, brows drawing together.

“Can I draw back on that steak metaphor? Dinner isn’t supposed to like you, it’s supposed to be dinner.” The vampire complained. “Ana enforcing this human blood celibacy isn’t fair when you’re walking around like that.”

“Spoiled brat,” Gabriel seethed under his breath. That was evidently the wrong thing to say, because the vampire bristled.

“The hell did you just say to me? I’d be nicer to the guy who could rip out your throat with his teeth or turn you into a thrall.” Genji bared his fangs.

“Yeah? Why don’t you fucking try it, _cabron?”_

_Gabe, this is a terrible idea, you’re squaring off against a fucking vampire, back the fuck down right now-_

“Lunchtime!” Ana announced, slamming the kitchen door open with her hip. Genji blinked, startled. “Genji, if you hurry, the deer’s blood will still be warm.”

The vampire disappeared into the kitchen without another word, and Gabriel slumped. Picking fights was a really shitty idea, considering who he was bunking with on the mountain.

“Mr. Reyes, what happened?” Ana asked, her voice forced-neutral as she brought him a slice of thick bread, full of nuts and seeds. He nibbled on it. Tasted alright. She added tea, and cooked vegetables in some kind of seasoned, buttery sauce. Also tasted alright. She brought him a small piece of meat, which he assumed was venison. He tasted it. Tasted weird. Decided to save it for last.

“Genji came downstairs and told me to stop bleeding. I told him to fuck off.”

“Mr. Reyes, I know it might not sound fair, but Genji is difficult. He has very little control of himself. If someone waved a seasoned, well-prepared turkey under your nose when you’d been forced to eat lettuce all your life, wouldn’t you try to take a bite?”

“Guess so.” Gabriel said begrudgingly.

“That’s what he’s going through. Try to antagonize him just a little less. And, maybe… Would you consider bleeding for him?”

Gabriel scowled. “Bleeding for him?”

“Giving up a mouthful or two of blood. He’d like you better for it, and I think if you’re going to be staying here, it’s a good idea to have a good relationship with everyone. Or, if you’re going to leave, you should leave with good terms with everyone.”

“I’m not into cutting myself open for just anyone,” Gabriel said sourly. He ate more of the bread. It tasted better the more he had.

“It’s something to consider, Mr. Reyes, not anything required.” She nodded encouragingly, keeping her voice gentle.

He finished the rest of his food pretty quickly, and Ana herded him into the kitchen to make jam. She put several pots on the stove, sending him to fetch various things.

She directed him with things along the lines of “I need sugar, Mr. Reyes, the top left cabinet”, “There’s a box of pectin in the lower mid-right cabinet, no, the other mid-right cabinet, there it is”, “I need more lids for the jars”, and “could you get a stirring spoon, Mr. Reyes, they’re on the jar on the counter”. It was nice, in a way. He seemed to recall doing this for his grandmother when he was a very little child- probably five or six years old. It brought strange stirrings of nostalgia that he didn’t try to suppress, because for once in his life he was thinking of a good childhood memory.

Reinhardt came in, pulling up chairs for himself ( he had a special chair that was reinforced to hold his giant body ) Gabriel, and Ana. Ana remained next to the stove, stirring the strawberries, sugar, and pectin occasionally. Gabriel took a seat next to Reinhardt, who was telling a story about an ogre finding true love with a human, his love transforming her into a beautiful female ogre. Gabriel’s favorite part of the story was the dragon and donkey romance subplot, surprisingly enough.

After the jam was done, Reinhardt kindled a flame in the fireplace in the living room. Ana was sitting on the couch nearby, reading glasses on as she perused a novel in a language Gabriel couldn’t read.

“You are a knight,” Reinhardt interpreted.

“No- I’m not a knight, that’s not how it works.”

“You’re a warrior.” Reinhardt tried again.

“No, no, no, _no._ Police officer. We enforce the law and stop people from hurting others.”

“You are a warrior of justice, slaughtering the evil and upholding codes of righteousness!”

“Reinhardt, it’s not like that-”

Explaining the concept of a modern police officer proved a lot more frustrating and a lot more difficult than Gabriel anticipated, especially since Reinhardt was so captivated by the concept of him being a knight.

“Where do you live?”

“A shi- An apartment in Los Angeles. It’s an okay area by LA’s standards.” A tiny shrug of his shoulders.

Dinner came and went. Genji came downstairs again. He avoided Gabriel like the plague, looking rather sour. Gabriel thought about apologizing, but struck the thought down right quick. Genji had to earn an apology.

Reinhardt ate what looked like an entire deer by himself. That wrecked Gabriel’s appetite, and he started longing for the shitty pizza he kept his fridge stocked with. He was kind of uncomfortable with all the people, but he ate his food in silence and kept the thoughts to himself.

Ana went into the potion room to brew, and Jamison flittered after her. Whether to help or to sleep, Gabriel didn’t know.

“Come watch the sunset with me, my friend.” Reinhardt invited, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. He had massive arms roughly the thickness of a tree trunk, sculpted muscle dusted with an abundance of grey hair. Not quite as furry as human Jesse, but still. “It is beautiful from up on the mountainside.”

“I think I’m going to be sleeping early, Reinhardt.” Gabriel found himself tired. He’d had a long, long day, and was looking forward to some rest. He finished his tea and the rest of his food while Reinhardt went out to admire the sunset, and Genji scrambled back up to his room.

Gabriel crashed down on the couch as the sun slipped just past the horizon.

=

Blood spattered his face, hot and sticky. Shame and anger burned in his body, made him tremble.

“Gabriel, that was one of the worst breaches of conduct I've ever seen. You're not a superhero, and you can't go beating up on people like that- it's police brutality, and I swear to God I could have your badge.” Her voice clanged sharply in his ears, almost grating.

“Shut the fuck up, Liao.”

“Gabriel, I'm not joking. Come back to the station with me, we need to have a- Gabriel!”

He was already striding away from her, anger dominating every step. Rage smoldered in every atom of his body, and it was only by what little control he had left that he didn't punch Liao’s teeth in.

“Gabriel, don't you walk away from me, I swear to God I'll have your ass on a silver platter! GABRIEL!”

Liao had her responsibilities wrapping up the arrest. He was completely self-assured that she was not gonna come chasing after his dumb ass.

He was going home. Popcorn, online videos, the comfort of his apartment to force him to cool down. He’d apologize to Liao later, but right now he was fucking furious, and his angry pride wouldn't let him attempt to make amends for his admittedly out-of-line behavior.

“What did you do?” Ana fell into step behind him, and he felt an odd tingle of uncertainty. He was pretty sure something was wrong with her being here, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was the way she seemed to have just appeared out of nowhere, or the fact that this talk with Liao took several years before he met her. This struck him as out of the ordinary, but simultaneously he reasoned that if she's here, she must be here. He saw no reason to object to her presence.

“Is this a dream?” He asked instead.

“You tell me, Mr. Reyes.”

“Hmm. I think so. It'd tell me why you're here, I guess.” A shrug of his shoulders. Ana was distracting him from the perp he’d just beat into a puddle, which was probably a good thing, in all honesty.

“Alright, then, Mr. Reyes. A dream. But I think it's more than a dream, isn't it?”

“A memory,” Gabriel said, uncertainly. “I think.”

“Ah. There, you see.” She said plainly, like he was supposed to extrapolate something important from that.

“No, I don't.” He snorted, bemused. “Cut the shit. The real Ana does this all the time, I don't need the bullshit one in my head doing it too.” He swatted his hands vaguely in her direction, as if to ward her off.

“Don't talk back,” she said, in that stern mother way of hers. Gabriel wanted to groan, but he instead gathered breath in his lungs just to huff it back out in annoyance. “I asked you what this memory is about. Don't give me sass.”

“I kicked the shit out of someone who deserved it, then stormed off. Liao was pissed for weeks.” Gabriel recounted. “Don't act like you don't know that, you're in my head.”

“You have a tendency to forget, Mr. Reyes.” She shrugged ever so slightly. “Could you tell me about-”

“The perp? His victims? He was a serial rapist, he deserved everything he got.” Gabriel snarled, temper flaring. “If Liao hadn't pulled me away I would've ripped his balls off with my teeth.”

“You're rather vicious, Mr. Reyes.” She said, quite plainly. It got a soft chuckle from Gabriel.

“Yeah. Guess so. It isn't the first time I've heard that.”

“How long have you been like this?” She asked him. A flicker of annoyance briefly slithered through him, but he shoved it down and stared at her, brows drawn together.

“You make it sound like it’s a sickness.” He said, voice guarded.

“I think it might be, Mr. Reyes.” She said, voice soft. “How long, Mr. Reyes?”

“Ever since I was a little kid. I’ve always been an asshole, Ana.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to think about this anymore. Leave me alone.”

He quickened his pace, and she had to lightly jog to keep up.

“Mr. Reyes- Please, wait, I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re in my head, Ana.” He reminded her. “Probably the manifestation of my guilty conscience or some shit like that. You can’t do anything that I can’t do, so you might as well stop worrying about me.”

“Mr. Reyes-”

He took another step and his whole world lurched.

He felt a lot… Heavier. Mystical. Dreamlike. When he moved, it was slow, with a good deal of something holding him back. He was also suddenly flat on his back, nearest he could figure.

Someone- or something- was on top of him. He looked up, vaguely, and saw the pale outline of a thin, feminine figure standing over him. White hair fell in a clean sheet off her crown, illuminated by the slice of orange-yellow light from a streetlamp outside. Most of the room- He was in his _apartment-_ was jet-black, and if he looked too hard, fuzzed by static and painful to linger on. He vaguely squirmed, hips jerking vainly as he tried to push the weight off him.

She stared at him, sympathy and pity in her eyes. The drum of rain on the rooftops, the quiet roll of thunder in the heavens above, was louder than her soft breathing.

A cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose, and his struggles grew harder, fresher, and panic shot down his body in waves. He tried to scream, to thrash, to push her off.

His bedroom door slammed open with a violent crash, faster than Gabriel ever thought it would’ve.

That bone-white face loomed out of it, red eyes burning in the deadened sockets as it parted its jaws and _screamed-_

=

He woke up.

He woke up to hear soft breathing in his ear. Hair grazed the side of his neck, tickling sweetly, and a light weight registered faintly over his abdomen. He looked up to find the very same weight from his dream- Angela stood over him, her lashes fluttering delicately as she blinked, bowed over him with her face a mere couple of inches from his.

Then he realized he couldn’t breathe.

His lungs spasmed, desperate for breath, and Gabriel bucked his hips- There was no hesitation, no dreamlike inability to move, he fought like Angela was trying to kill him ( which she might’ve been. ) He struggled and screamed ( muffled ) like he was being murdered, and Angela pushed him down into the couch harder, teeth grit and slender muscles illuminated by the moonlight outside. He attempted to rip off her hands and pull away the damp cloth set over his mouth and nose, but god damn these freaky magic people were so _powerful,_ it wasn’t _fair._

His struggles slowed and his consciousness wavered much sooner than he would’ve liked, and she removed the rag from around his mouth and nose. Had he just been chloroformed? Wasn’t it supposed to take you down all the way?

He knew he was moving- Or, rather, someone was moving _him-_ but he was so _dizzy_ and he could hardly drag his consciousness back together. He was being carried over her shoulder. She was strong, really strong, able to haul a two hundred and thirty pound asshole over her shoulder and still look so delicate. Fucking magic. He hated it.

The front door closed, and a chill came over him. He shivered pathetically. Mountain air at night in the winter was unpleasant, even if it was California and he was wearing a jacket.

His reaction to the cold seemed to garner some sympathy from Angela- He could hear a vague, comforting murmur, and a hand stroked itself down his spine. He attempted to wriggle away from her, but ended up doing nothing more than really flexing his fingers and maybe kicking his feet a bit.

She gingerly laid him on the ground, and he tried to pull together enough willpower to get up, at the very least. No such luck. She spread her feathers, glinting white in the moonlight, and shifted Gabriel onto his belly. There was a vague pressure at his shoulders and armpits, and he realized it must’ve been her bird feet.

“No,” Gabriel protested weakly. Slurred.

She replied something he couldn’t hear. His terror was lessened by whatever he’d inhaled on that cloth. He knew he ought to be scared, but felt oddly detached from it. His heart beat uncomfortably in his chest, and his stomach lurched in terror, but he didn’t feel it right.

He moved, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Angela’s wings beat hard, dragging him out of the dirt and _off the edge of the cliff._ He couldn’t even draw breath to scream.

He watched the landscape below numbly. Trees swooped past, hundreds of feet below, rustling in the breeze and softly illuminated by the moonlight high above. Gabriel had told himself multiple times he wasn’t scared of heights, but this was a pretty _traumatizing experience._ The only thing between himself and being flattened on the ground like a human pancake was an unhinged harpy lady who’d drugged him in his sleep not once, but _twice._

Had he been a lesser man, he probably would’ve cried.

As it stood, he only watched as he was carried further and further away from the house he had tentatively started to call _home._


	6. Fall ( To His Untimely Death ) out Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela's flight is interrupted by someone who doesn't want her to have Gabriel.

Gabriel was barely aware of the passage of time.

He just knew there were a lot of trees. A lot of trees very far below. He knew his hoodie was fluttering in the breeze, and that his knife was still in his pocket, that his head was hurting and he felt really fuzzy.

“It’ll be a while, Mr. Reyes.” Angela’s voice was fuzzy, nearly swallowed in the wind whistling past him. It could be he was just imagining hearing her speak, that it was an effect of the drug she’d weakened him with. “Just try to relax.”

He did relax. Wasn’t like he could do anything else.

His stomach felt odd. Shifting and twisty.

Probably the height.

His fingers had gone numb with the cold.

Blood pooled in his feet.

He couldn’t feel his nose anymore.

He tried to flex his fingers, and they did move, although with the motor control of a small child.

He craned his neck upwards, but could only see Angela’s belly and not her face.

He slumped in disappointment.

He looked back down at the trees below.

Still trees.

He was starting to feel heavy. Heavier than usual.

Sleepiness. He could feel it pull on his eyelids.

The drug was fogging his head, and the repetitive beat of Angela’s wings proved to be almost hypnotic.

Sosleepy. Sosososososleepy.

He had to fight to stay awake, prying his heavy lids open to look around. The cold and wind stung his eyeballs. It helped him keep himself together a little bit.

He thought back to when he curled up under that bridge as a little kid. How he thought he was gonna die.

He didn’t want to die. Not right now, not right here, not like this. He felt so numb and tired.

Angela wouldn’t let him die. Would she? She seemed so kind. She really seemed like she cared about him. Even with all the drugging and stuff.

He nodded off for a split second- Or, at least, he thought it was. There was no way of telling how long he’d been out of it for. It felt like only a second or two, but it could’ve been minutes or even hours.

He’s so sleepy. Would he freeze up here? Angela had feathers to keep her warm, he didn’t.

Dying wouldn’t be so bad. He would just get to close his eyes and...

_WHAM!_

Angela screamed in something that sounded close to fear and alarm, and Gabriel’s thoughts snapped back out of macabre thoughts of death and into reality. His cop senses kicked into gear after the scream, adrenaline jerking the sleepy fog away. Something else was in the air with them, something big and terrible, and it’d just knocked into her. Angela was twisting in the wind, attempting to right herself, and they’d dropped several feet as the harpy fought to keep in flight.

Wings beat noisily, buzzing next to his ears.

Something was going on. What, though, he wasn’t entirely certain. He _thought_ they were being attacked, but he didn’t exactly know. Angela’s scream seemed to indicate so.

There was another collision, and Gabriel was left dangling, held by one talon as she kicked out with the other. There was an animal’s shriek of pain, and the dark shape assaulting them twisted like a ribbon in the wind, peeling away from them. Angela resumed her grip on Gabriel, wings beating desperately as she attempted to flee.

Was the thing attacking her a friend or foe to Gabriel? Friend, he hoped.

Angela’s flight, all fevered and desperate, nearly made Gabriel nauseous. The trees were a distant blur below, and the speeds were comparable to roller coaster rides, except without the assurance of a seat or a seat belt.

The shape came back, fluttering after them. Gabriel heard the feline bellow of a big cat, sending icicle chills through his blood. He preferred Angela, no matter where she might be taking him. The monster back there had no good intentions, that much he knew.

There was another roar, and something batted at his foot. A paw? A hand? Gabriel kicked as hard as he could and received a low sound of pain as a response.

“Good work!” Angela cried to him. “We’re almost-”

Two paws closed around his ankle, and Angela strained to keep in motion.The creature attempted to pull him back, the harpy attempted to pull him forward, and he sensed this was going to end badly.  It was like tug-of-war, using Gabriel’s body as a rope, and he wasn't a fan.

He screamed impolite words in Spanish at the monster, heaping blind insults at it as he kicked and squirmed. He battered one of its forelegs with his free foot, and was released for his trouble.

The monster bellowed at him, and he chose to interpret it as frustration. Those massive paws reluctantly let him go, and it turned tail, darting back the way it’d come. Broad, feathered wings glinted in the light of the moon as it departed, and Gabriel had no idea if he should be feeling elation, dread, or fear.

At least he knew he could fight off supernatural creatures. Well, weird flying cat monsters, at least.

The harpy’s flight slowed to something almost leisurely, and she adjusted her grip on his shoulders. His fucking arms were numb.

“Not far now, Mr. Reyes,” Angela informed him kindly. “I know you may be cold, confused, hurt, and possibly scared. That's normal for mortals. We’ll work through this, together, and you’ll accept it, maybe even come to like it.”

“Like what?” Gabriel croaked. God, he sounded like he was on death’s door. At least whatever he’d been dosed with was wearing off somewhat.

“Your destiny.”

The cliche almost caused him physical pain.

“I'm a sub-par cop from LA with a shitty family and no friends. What fucking _destiny_ could I possibly-”

“In due time, you will assume the role of our leader. You have been chosen.” Angela replied, almost dreamily.

“‘Chosen? Chosen by _who?"_  Gabriel demanded.

“The—”

Gabriel was wrenched completely free of her claws, teeth stabbing into his ankle and forcing a scream from his throat. The monster- the same one from before- wheeled around in the sky, hurtling away from the harpy with Gabriel in tow.  He heard Angela’s screech of outrage and alarm, but could only concentrate on the fangs embedded in his leg.

It was almost as bad as getting shot. Every beat of the monster’s wings jostled the injury, making it hurt and bleed worse, and more terrible, he was left to fucking _dangle_ from its jaws, which hurt enough to make tears well. He had to awkwardly cling to one of its huge forelegs to keep from being dragged solely by the ankle. God, it hurt so _much,_ it was the only thing he could think about.

Angela swooped in beside them, wings beating strong. Her talons ripped at the monster’s feathers, and it let out a shriek of surprise and pain. That removed it's teeth enough from his leg for Gabriel to jerk his foot free and-

Oh no.

He scrabbled for purchase on the monster’s body, trying to look for a shoulder blade or a limb or ANYTHING, but his fingers slipped clean off. He didn't catch one of the monster’s paws or its tail like in a dramatic action movie.

He failed to get a grip and plummeted.

Screaming for his life.

Terrified.

The ground was rushing so close.

Knowing his luck he’d get impaled by a tree and live for an agonizing minute before bleeding out or drowning in his own blood.

Liao would be upset.

Really just her, honestly.

He regretted that he didn't have more friends.

He tried to think of more regrets he had as he approached the promise of death that was the ground.

Nope. He just wished for more friends. He was fucking pathetic. Gabriel Reyes, 43, will not be missed by anyone other than his police captain.

Ooh, wait. He regretted dying without taking one of those LA murderers or rapists with him.

Probably a hundred feet from the hurtling ground.

He hoped it wouldn't hurt. That's all he wanted out of his death. For things to not hurt _for once._

“ _ROOOARRRHHH!”_

The monster came streaming down from the sky, demanding Gabriel’s attention in what he had figured was his final moments. Conceited asshole, didn’t it know he was trying to be all dramatic and poetic with his death-

It swooped down, paws spread, abruptly clamping around Gabriel’s middle, spreading its broad wings like a parachute and clamping Gabriel to its big, furry chest. Gabriel made a muffled protest into its torso, trying to squirm, but it held him fast.

The monster was a couple feet off the ground, paws just barely skimming the leaf litter below. It didn’t rise much past that spot, and Gabriel fuzzily figured it was trying to avoid an attack from Angela by staying low.

Abruptly, adrenaline slammed Gabriel up the ass, accompanied by a sudden dizzy spike of realization.

_Holy shit, I almost fucking died. I almost DIED._

It was simultaneously a sobering and a thrilling thought. He’d lived and that was reason to celebrate, but on the other hand, Jesus Christ, he’d almost fallen to his death and some freaky bird / cat monster had saved his miserable ass. His life was rapidly running into the ground, and he hadn’t expected that until his retirement.

_Concentrate, Gabriel, keep it together. Concentrate. What’s the wisest thing you could do right now?_

This freaky cat monster was going to eat him or kill him later, that he was reasonably sure of. He hadn’t forgotten the pain of being bitten. His ankle still _hurt,_ and it was the monster’s fault.

The combat knife was heavy in his pocket.

He could reach it.

He wiggled a little bit, and the monster let out a huffing groan in his direction, tightening its grip in response. Gabriel thought he was gonna be crushed, but it wasn’t as bad as Reinhardt. He pulled the knife free of his pocket, wondering if and where he should stab.

The monster crested slightly, its wings beating. It raised its chest and head up a little higher, and Gabriel realized it was now or never. He was only ten, fifteen (ish?) feet from the ground, which would hurt but wouldn’t kill him. The monster was intending to rise past the trees, then Gabriel would be helpless again.

He stabbed it in the belly, digging the knife in as deep as he could with the limited range of motion he had. It gave a shriek of pain, muscles flexing in what he assumed was agony. It gave Gabriel more leeway to attempt to stab the damn thing again, but before he could dig the blade in it dropped him, flapping like a captured goose in an attempt to get away.

Gabriel fell.

He didn’t land on his feet, but awkwardly on his side. It knocked the breath clear out of his body, and he immediately tried to draw it in again, only to gasp desperately when his chest burned and the air refused to come. He felt crinkled up, like a stomped soda can, and he writhed on the earthy floor in pain from the fall.

God, something must’ve broke, God, _God,_ he must’ve fallen further than he thought because it _hurt._ Black spots burst in front of his vision, offset by stars, and he felt like crying. One of his gasps finally managed to pull in some sweet air, and he gulped down breath with the desperation of a drowning man. He then got off his side, quickly flipping on his back. His entire body screamed with the motion, and with a sinking heart he realized he wasn’t going to be moving any time soon.

He refused to accept he was crippled and alone in the middle of the forest. He mentally allowed himself an entire minute to recover. His entire right side throbbed with his heartbeat, and he counted seconds in his head, breathing deeply in and out.

_Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…_

He hurt all over, it hurt it hurt it hurt. He thought he might’ve been crying, but it was chilly enough for him to be unaware if his face was wet or cold.

_Thirty three, thirty four, thirty five, thirty six…_

His ankle was going to get infected. He could practically feel all the germs crawling into his open wound. It throbbed just as painfully as the rest of his battered body.

_Cuarenta, Cuarenta y uno, cuarenta y dos, cuarenta y tres…_

There was the impact of something landing, then the rustling of something moving nearby. Gabriel’s heart shrieked in fear, kicking its pace into high gear. Blood surged throughout his body, terror momentarily overpowering the sting of pain.

_FIFTY FIVE FIFTY SIX FIFTY SEVEN FIFTY EIGHT_

There was a great sniffing sound somewhere sharply to his left. Gabriel’s throat was dry and his chest heaved in terror, and he shook pathetically from pain and fear in the leaves that’d surely become his deathbed. He held the combat knife with a death grip, determined to take the monster with him.

**_SIXTY ONE SIXTY TWO SIXTY TH-_ **

The monster- at least, he assumed it was the same one- loomed over him now. It had a lion’s head,  intelligent blue eyes slashed with scars. It had a flowing, tumbling mane, cotton white and fine as spiderweb.

Nearest Gabriel could figure, it was mostly lion. A lion’s face, neck, chest, and front paws, but is _hind legs_ were misshapen and odd. Not a lion’s, that was for sure. And the fact that it had a massive pair of snow-white wings, he was pretty sure that wasn’t a feature on any big cat.

Oh, what did it matter? It was probably going to eat him.

It leered closer, its soft, dark pink nostrils flaring. It paced around him- assessing him?- then ended up where it’d begun. It nudged his ribs with its giant nose, and it managed to eek out a pained shout from Gabriel. Warily it padded over to the other side, prodding at his flank experimentally. When Gabriel didn’t make a noise, it snuffled around his hoodie and pants pockets. Paws the size of catcher's’ mitts replaced its broad nose after a few moments. With surprisingly gentle motions, it managed to remove his keys and wallet. It sniffed the items experimentally, then ignored them, returning back to Gabriel’s person. Massive paws gingerly felt around Gabriel’s body, and he had a sinking feeling that it was looking for something in particular.

 _Is it looking for-?_ Gabriel glanced at the combat knife he’d dropped on impact, hiding under some leaf litter. _This thing is smart. Fuck._

“Get away from me,” Gabriel told it, teeth grit. One of its ears flicked, and he hoped that meant it was listening. Whether it could understand English was another thing altogether, but animals understood tone, he thought. “ _Cabron,_ I mean it, get the fuck away from me!”

It grunted, pulling back for the moment. It circled him again, wary, then snuffled around the back of his neck. Gabriel stiffened; he could feel hot breath against the nape of his neck, goosebumps popping up all over his skin. Whiskers and tiny little hairs tickled against Gabriel, and there was experimental movement.

It was tugging him by the back of his hoodie, Christ. It attempted to pull him away, and it took all Gabriel had to grab the knife before it moved him too far away.

“Let me go!” Gabriel hissed. Trying to stab the thing was gonna hurt. God, it was gonna _hurt._ He forced himself to breathe calmly and prepare.

It didn’t let go until after it’d dragged him about twenty feet. It looked him over again, blue eyes scrutinizing. It spotted the knife in his hand, evidently, because it let out a loud, lionlike groan, hopping away from him.

“Yeah, _cabron,_ you know what this is.” Gabriel spat vaguely in its direction. “Fuck off.”

It shifted, seeming to reassess the situation. It padded close, on his bad side, and Gabriel gave it a warning snarl.

“Leave me alone, _puta!_ You touch me and I swear to God-”

It whacked his arm with its paw like one of those house cats chasing a toy, and it was quite possibly the most intense pain Gabriel had ever endured.

His scream made roosting birds flutter away.

His vision had gone completely black for nearly ten seconds, and his hand had arced forward with the combat knife on sheer instinct. It scored the lion thing’s paw, managing to score a deep slash through its limb and spray the forest floor with blood. The lion let out a pained holler, slapping Gabriel’s knife wielding hand with its free paw in response. The impact didn’t hurt nearly as bad as his other arm, but it was with enough force to send the blade flying.

He realized, after the aftershocks of agony were starting to dim, that he was now weaponless.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Gabriel shouted, attempting to awkwardly shimmy away from it. “Fuck _OFF!”_

The monster saw his weakness and lunged after him- Its head whammed into his side, knocking him on its belly.

Its teeth closed around his T shirt and jacket, managing to barely miss taking a chunk out of his back. Gabriel screamed abuse at it in Spanish, but was ignored. The creature lifted its head proudly, spreading its massive wings. Its muscles tensed, and it launched itself into the air.

Gabriel looked back at the fallen knife in despair. He’d changed hands from Angela to some kind of terrifying lion/bird monster, and lost every piece of equipment at his disposal. He’d lost his knife, his wallet, his keys, and to top it all off, he was _injured,_ and probably _badly._

He wondered if Ana was even going to look for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who that is?


	7. Thing with Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and the monster carve their way through the woods together.

Gabriel didn’t remember falling asleep.

He must’ve, because he woke up and he was feeling… Surprisingly alright. His body, which’d been slammed about yesterday, didn’t hurt too bad. He shifted his ankle- Didn’t hurt. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he was wounded anymore, which was pretty nice. Magic?

He was in a hole, nearest he could tell. Brilliant sunlight streamed in from overhead, a massive crack in the earth. He must’ve been in a really tiny ravine or something similar. He could hold out both his arms and his fingertips would brush the walls, although it was several yards in length.

He was laying in a soft bed of moss, leaves, and blanket scraps, roughly in the center of the ravine. It took him a bit of effort and some trial and error, but he rose to his feet. The walls of this crack were thirty or forty feet up, and although he was athletic, he wasn’t a climber and he wasn’t gonna risk falling and breaking something. He’d had enough of that yesterday.

He got shakily to his feet, reaching out his arm to support himself with one of the walls.

Heaped in one corner was a pile of _stuff._ Gabriel moved over, seeing nothing better to do than explore. It looked like the monster who’d grabbed him wasn’t here now, but he was decently certain it’d come back soon. Of course, he was banking on the assumption that this was that particular monster’s _nest_ or whatever and not somebody else’s place. Freaky monsters were everywhere, by the looks of it; it was a miracle he hadn’t stumbled into a nest of vampires or a group of werewolves back as a cop in LA.

_Maybe you did, Gabe, and you didn’t know that’s what they were._

A creepy thought. He resolved to get back to exploring.

That pile of stuff proved to be an assortment of… Weapons?

Guns. Mostly guns. Assault rifles, a couple pistols, a bow and a handful of arrows- Hunting rifles, shotguns, handguns. This thing was a hoarder. Magazines and boxes of ammunition were stacked nearby, and Gabriel hovered over them decisively, trying to pick a good gun.

One of the pistols was archaic. Two hundred, three hundred years old, one of those old flintlock-y ones. One of the shotguns was completely rusted over to the point where he hardly identified it as a shotgun instead of an oxidized metal stick. This bastard had been building his hoard for quite some time, it looked like.

Gabriel wasn’t a marksman by any means, so he passed over the shotguns, hunting and assault rifles, and the bow. He’d only been seriously trained with a pistol, and that’s what he spent all his time at the range practicing with.

Gabriel sifted through the mass of metal and plastic, hunting for something he could actually effectively use. Not that he couldn’t blow the damn thing’s head off with a shotgun, but he’d prefer a pistol.

Aha! A Glock, buried beneath a pile of assault rifles. Not the same make and model of Gabriel’s beloved handgun, but it was a Glock, nonetheless. Good thing about handguns: If you were trained in one, you were trained in ‘em all.

He checked the clip. Full. The monster was dumb, had to be, to leave a fucking _cop_ with enough small arms to kill an entire forest worth of monsters without reloading.

He wondered why the monster hoarded guns. It was a lion, or looked like it. It didn’t have fingers for the trigger, and even if it did, why did it need so many? Where did it even _get_ them from? Hunters? Smugglers? Rangers?

He stuffed ammo into his hoodie pocket, then moved back to the nest he’d woken up in. He sat there, pistol in his lap, eyes turned to the sky.

It must’ve taken less than five minutes before a dark shape passed over the crevace’s opening. The monster landed on the turf above, then padded to the lip of the ravine. Its paws and head hung over, like a cat contemplating jumping into a bathtub. It gathered strength in its hindquarters and bounded almost completely vertically downwards, leaping from shallow outcropping to shallow outcropping. Damn thing certainly moved like a big cat- Was all graceful and pretty.

It jumped the last ten feet, thumping noisily but landing on all fours next to Gabriel.

It eyed Gabriel a moment, then dropped a squirrel carcass in front of him. It sat down smartly, an expectant gaze put on him. Sitting down, he could tell the damn thing had massive bird feet for hind legs. Scaly talons and faded white feathers from about the waist down. The combination of the lion part’s thin, tawny-white fur created an oddly mix-matched impression.

“The fuck do you want me to do with that?” Gabriel barked, glaring at the dead squirrel. “Huh, _cabron?_ Do I look like a freaky lion creature that can-”

It picked up the squirrel and dropped it in his lap. Gabriel didn’t touch it- germs!- but did stand up, scooting away from it.

“I don’t want it, asshole, is that hard for you to get?” He barked.

It stared at him for a moment, then picked the squirrel back up in its mouth and bounded almost vertically back up the ravine wall. It was impressive enough for Gabriel to forget he was mad, and he blinked as it disappeared back over the rim.

Looked like he might not have to shoot it after all. Would be nice to be armed, though.

The beast came back a few minutes later, landing beside Gabriel with a heavy thump. It was sans squirrel this time, and he eyed the monster suspiciously.

“The hell are you supposed to be, anyway? Looks like someone tried to sow a bird onto your ass.” Gabriel told it. It looked at him, cocking its head slightly.

It then opened its mouth and let several saliva-covered red berries fall out of its jaws. It nosed them towards Gabriel.

“They’re probably poisonous, and they were in your mouth, I’m not gonna eat them!” Gabriel snapped. “Stop trying to feed me, _idiota,_ I don’t want anything that’s been near your mouth. In fact, I’m gonna get out of here.”

Gun was still in his pocket. Safety on. He headed for one of the edges of rock, taking a foothold. He made it about a foot before the monster figured out what he was trying to do and _roared._

Lions roar loud. As in, you can hear for _miles_ kind of loud. Goddamn four hundred pound lion hollering at the top of its tongue right next to him was enough to terrify Gabriel into holding still. That kind of shit was the stuff you heard just before a big cat bit your head off, and it was an evolutionary instinct that kept him stock still out of sheer fear.

It padded closer to him, grabbing the bottom of his pants in its teeth and tugging surprisingly gently. Considerably shaken, Gabriel stepped down.

He should just _shoot_ the damn thing.

“You’re a freak.” Gabriel told it. It was unaffected by the insult, and chose to stare up at him with its cool blue eyes. “Why did you even bring me here? Where _are_ we? I want to go back to Ana’s.” He shook his head and amended, “I want to go _home._ And if you think I'm gonna just sit here and let you spit food at me until I die, you're wrong.”

It kept its unblinking stare fixed on him.

“Forget you!” Gabriel barked. “Should cap your ass and mount your head on my wall.”

Kept staring.

Gabriel turned away from it in a huff. Most of these magical creatures had the added affect of being really fucking obnoxious into the ‘supernaturally powerful’ bargain. Jamison and Jesse were much the same way.

“You roar again, asshole, and I’ll _actually_ shoot you.” He threatened. “I’m getting out of here and you can’t stop me.”

He stepped up to one of the rocks, glancing back at the creature warily. He needed both hands to climb, and didn’t really want to waste one holding onto a gun so he could shoot it just in case.

He managed to ascend about three feet before the monster made a huffing growl and leaned up on the rock, chuffing noisily. Blue eyes watched him move with critical attention.

“Go away,” Gabriel hissed at it.

He turned his head back, attempting to scale the edge of the cliff. God, there was no easy way to do this. It’d be so much easier if he was a freaky weird bird cat thing and could fly out of it.

One of his feet slipped, and he scrabbled violently, trying to keep his place. The monster gave a startled sound and moved over to stand underneath Gabriel. It gave an urgent noise, pacing anxiously like an unhappy cat.

“Fuck off, mother hen!” Gabriel barked. “I’m not a rich white guy, but I’m not scared to kill a lion!”  

It reared up on his hind legs, and Gabriel let out a yelp as it attempted to grab him by the belt with its teeth.

He grabbed the handgun out of his pocket and shot blindly- There was a loud, cracking snap of the gun, and the monster hollered in what he assumed was pain, fleeing down to the other end of the crevasse.

Gabriel awkwardly shimmied/slid down the rock face, cautiously approaching the beast. He wondered- tightening the fingers on the grip- if he should just kill it and be done with it.

The monster seemed to realize his intentions. Blue eyes widened, and it backed away from him, ears flattening and wings snug against its flanks. Gabriel was uncertain whether he should move forward or move back- Whether he should shoot it or put the gun away.

“I just want to get back home,” He told it quietly. “If you’re going to stop me, I’m going to kill you. It’s easy as that.”

It stared at him, ears plastered to its skull and whites of its eyes visible. Fear. Goddammit, it was _afraid._

He stuffed the gun bitterly back into his jeans, safety on.

 _You’re supposed to be a heartless bastard, Gabriel._ He told himself. He responded to himself in his head, irate.

 _It’s not threatening. I would have no trouble blowing the damn thing’s brain out if it came down to it._ He eyed it warily. _It’s scared and cowering, though. If it were roaring or attacking me, then I could shoot it, no problem._

 _Sure, Gabe._ He told himself, sounding bitter. _Sure you’d kill it. I think you’ve got a soft spot for the freaky lion bird. Fucking idiot, way to go._

_Shut up._

“Listen.” Gabriel held his hand out. It eyed him again, just as wary of him as he had been of it. Its ear flicked, and cocked its head ever-so slightly. “I want to go home. You’re trying to help me, right? Keeping me from climbing up, feeding me? If you _really_ want to help, take me home.”

It seemed to judge him. Snow-white mane, blue eyes, massive scarred slashes over his broad snout and over one of its baby blues.

It padded up to him, bowing its head low and hunkering down a little bit.

“Oh. Do you want me to-” He moved around, straddling the monster from behind. “Like this?”

“ _Rooah.”_

“Not like this?” He scooted up.

_“Ruhh.”_

“Is that good or bad? I don’t speak cat.”

_“RUHH.”_

“That doesn’t help, dumbass.” He flicked one of its ears, irate. It twitched in response and the monster made a soft noise of complaint. “I’m gonna hold on to your mane. That’s how they do it with horses, right?”

“Rrhh.”

“Right.” Gabriel scooted up a bit, until he sat nearer the monster’s shoulder blades. He grabbed fistfuls of silky white. It wasn’t frizzy and tangled like he expected it to be; it _was_ coarse, like he anticipated, but surprisingly well-groomed.

The lion-bird-thing leapt up the rock face, finding tiny little ledges that Gabriel never would’ve trusted his fingers to hold. Gabriel had to lean in close to its body, knees digging into its sides and fingers holding on for dear life. It eventually sprang out of the crevasse, landing on solid ground.

“ _Ruhh.”_

“I don’t know what that means.” Gabriel told it. It chose to ignore him, starting to pad off in what seemed to Gabriel was a random direction.

Well, this was an improvement. At least Gabriel didn’t have to walk all the way back, _God_ knew how far he was from Ana’s house…

Wait, he’d asked the monster to take him _home._

“Hey,” He patted its head to catch its attention. “Do you know where you’re going?”

It made another grunting noise, which struck Gabriel as distinctly unhelpful. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“ _Ruhh. Ruhh."_

“Alright. If you say so." Gabriel hoped that was a yes. "Aren’t you going to fly?”

“Ruhh.”

“Right.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Forget I asked.”

The monster padded further into the forest happily.

Hours and hours and hours and _hours_ of walking. And, complementary to that, hours of _silence._ It was getting completely, absolutely stifling. There was no _noise,_ other than birds singing or whatever, but if he didn’t hear a human voice soon he was going to go crazy. Sure, the environments were pretty, but what did that _matter?_ Trees were still boring, silent trees.

“Hey, you’re a big dumb cat monster, right?” Gabriel prodded its ear to get its attention.

“ _Raah.”_

“Yeah.” Gabriel absently started stroking the monster’s mane with one hand. “Since you can’t talk and I’m going crazy listening to nothing, I’m gonna start thinking out loud. Not like you can tell anybody what I say.”

“Ruhh.” Agreement, maybe.

“I don’t know what I’m wanted for. Angela mentioned… Angela mentioned I had a _destiny.”_ His fingers carded through the coarse fur. “I get the feeling… This isn’t a destiny I want. That something is happening with these _dreams.”_

“Rahh?” It tossed its head up, questioning.

“Premonitions, I guess. I keep seeing- Stop walking for a sec.” Its gradual padding came to a halt, and it looked back at him curiously.

Gabriel hopped off its back, snapping a good-sized stick off of one of the nearby trees. He moved back to the monster, prodding the dirt in front of it. He then drew a rough approximation of the mask he’d been seeing in his dreams ( although he wasn’t exactly a high-tier artist ).

The monster shivered, ears flattening and eyes widening when he completed it.

“What? You recognize it?”

The creatures’ broad head swung towards him, blue eyes sharp with alarm.

“ _RAHH!”_

“Calm down, damn! I didn’t do anything!”

The monster huffed irately, swinging its head and lashing its ropy lionlike tail. It struck Gabriel as a very humanlike thing to pace around and snort.

“What’s wrong with it?” Gabriel objected, knowing his voice sounded rather reedy and pathetic. The monster whirled back towards him, and he stiffened, fingers reaching down his pocket for the Glock he’d taken.

“Rooahh.” It replied urgently. It bounded up to Gabriel, lowering its head and crouching somewhat.

“What?”

“ROAH.”

“Do you want me to climb on-”

“ROAH.”

“Is that a yes?”

“ROAH!”

Gabriel got on the monster.

It turned and bounded back the way they’d come, and Gabriel made a loud noise of protest. The damn cat could move _fast_ when it wanted, the fucking freak of nature.

“I didn’t fucking- Hey!” He slapped the side of the damn thing’s head. “Where the hell are you going? You said you would take me home, asshole!”

The monster’s running pawsteps gradually slowed to a trot, then to nothing. It glanced back at Gabriel, wary. Gabriel realized, a chill running up his spine, that its blue eyes were _afraid._

“I’m not- I’m not going to hurt you.” Gabriel said, uncertain of that himself. “What is the matter with-” He reached forward, and the beast flinched. “Hey! Hey, I’m not a bad guy.”

_Some people disagree with that, Gabe._

_Shut up, Gabe._

“It’s alright.” Gabriel scooted closer to the thing, hand still held out. With his luck he’d probably get it bitten off. “Whatever that thing means, I’m not it. I’m probably just as scared of it as you are.”

The monster kept staring, big blue eyes unblinking. Gabriel closed the gap between them, setting his hand on the monster’s nose.

“Ruhh.” It said, quiet and reluctant.

Gabriel was allowed back on its back, and they turned back in the direction they’d been going for all those hours. At that same slow, meandering pace.

It was gonna be a while, wasn’t it.

=

“It’s getting dark,” Gabriel observed sleepily. The sun had long set past the edge of the hills in the far off distance, but orange-red still dyed the western sky and slits of fiery light still played with the leaves and cast god rays through the branches. “How far away from Ana’s did you take me?”

_He’s not taking you to Ana’s, he’s taking you home._

A grumble from the monster.

“Well. I guess any direction’s a good direction. Any direction will get me out of this forest if we move long enough.” Gabriel gave the beast a pat.

“Raah.” Its head swiveled around, pinning Gabriel with a stare. It shook itself almost experimentally.

“Oh, do you want me to get-” Gabriel swung his leg up and over, hopping off the beast. The correct course of action, because it gave him a tiny nod.

“Rahh.”

“What?”

The monster shook its head incredulously, then padded up to a nearby tree. It waved its paw vaguely, and Gabriel curiously followed it.

“Rahh.” The monster pressed a paw to his foot insistently. “ _Grahh.”_

“I don’t know what that means, you idiot.” Gabriel barked. The monster’s tail lashed and it turned, padding away.

“Wait a second, I do _not_ want to be in the middle of the forest in the _dark!”_ Gabriel objected, trying to suppress a crush of black fear. “Don’t leave-”

When he tried to follow the creature, it growled threateningly. Gabriel stopped moving, quiet and uncertain. “Are you coming back?”

It nodded quietly, then bounded off into the woods. Gabriel was on his own again. Which was _not_ good, because the last couple of times he’d been by himself he had gotten violently kidnapped. Could only hope that he wouldn’t be assaulted by a gnome.

He recalled how a few days ago his biggest worries had been Liao chewing him out for showing up late. Now he had to be scared of being lost in the woods and subsequently kidnapped by supernatural forces who wanted him for some kind of dark, evil _something_ or another. Or getting eaten by a bear. God, it would be embarrassing if he fought off a supernatural lion bird only to get axed by a normal-ass bear.

His stomach growled.

Fuck. He’d been trying not to think about food all day. He _really_ does not want to eat anything the monster’s going to bring back to him- Eating a squirrel corpse and a handful of berries is _not_ appealing, even if dinner at Ana’s twenty-four hours ago is the last thing he’s had. His city slicker body isn’t built for crunching down on dead squirrels. Maybe if the monster managed to dig up a can of soup he could do it.

The last red rays bled out of the sky, leaving the sky a dark blue-grey gradually spilling into the inky black of night. It wasn’t too dark to see properly, but everything was dyed a deep grey. Gabriel huddled next to the tree, fingers wrapped around his Glock. It was warmer tonight, at least, but he didn’t fancy the chill for very long.

The monster growled to announce its presence so Gabriel didn’t shoot him. The creature padded over towards him delicately, taking a seat down in front of him. There was a package of marshmallows in the creature’s jaws, and, to Gabriel’s surprise, a package of sausages, which the monster had carried by pressing them underneath his chin.

“Is there a campground near here?” Gabriel asked, surprised. Hunger overtook him for a moment, and he ripped open the package of marshmallows, stuffing a handful in his mouth. Sugary goodness.

“Raah.”

“Uhh…”

The monster clarified by nodding.

“You snuck up and stole these?” Gabriel looked down at the bag between his legs, pursing his lips. He popped another marshmallow in his mouth. “You’re sneakier than I thought.”

The monster lifted its head higher, proud. “Raah.”

“Do you want some? I don’t think you’ve eaten, either.”

It nudged the pack of sausages towards him with its big, flat nose.

“Oh, can you not get it open? You’ve got all those teeth…” Gabriel fumbled with the package for a minute, then managed to slit the plastic. He picked up a sausage and dangled it teasingly in front of the monster. “If you bite me, I’m capping your ass.”

“Raah.” The beast reared up, pulling the sausage out of his hand and snapping it up like a dog to get the whole thing in its massive maw. Gabriel fed it another one, then another one, then another one, which it ate without any kind of protest.

“I don’t think there’s nearly enough for you to get full.” Gabriel eyed the package critically. “You’re gonna need to suck it up or go hunting.”

It licked its lips and wordlessly padded over to Gabriel, using its broad face to nudge him aside. It curled up in the crook of roots, opening a frosty blue eye to peer questioningly at the human.

“We sleeping together? Haven’t even been on a first date, cabron.” Gabriel chewed on a marshmallow, amused. The monster grumbled irately and swatted at the air.

It was rapidly getting colder, though. Gabriel scooted over next to the beast, cautiously scooting into the curve of its belly.

The monster was warm, he’d give it that.

One of its paws wiggled to rest on top of Gabriel’s shoulder, and he glared back at it, only to be met with closed eyes and a peaceful face.

“Asshole,” Gabriel mumbled. He tried a sausage. Not cooked, but also not bad. He hoped he wouldn’t get salmonella. “I’m big spoon next time.”

It made a noise akin to a laugh- a happy chuff that Gabriel could feel since his back was up against the monster’s ribs.

He slept well that night.

 

 


	8. The Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has a dream.

Gabriel blinked rapidly, eyelids fluttering.

He was sitting in his place at the police station. Big wooden desk, big leather chair, papers, his trusty decade-old computer. Even fully in uniform. His tie wasn’t even a mite out of place.

Liao brushed past without saying a word, and a surge of guilt rushed through Gabriel.

He shot out of his chair, stomping after her. “Liao- Liao, wait, I just- I wanted to tell you I’m _sorry-”_

“Save it. After what you did yesterday.” She cut him off by raising two of her fingers. “I think you might need time off, Gabe.”

“What? No, I-” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Liao, I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t remember what he was sorry for. Only that he’d done something wrong, that he’d done something terrible, something he couldn’t possibly atone for. Panic fluttered in his chest like a caged bird and he fought to choke it down. He tried to put his hand on her shoulder, to assure her and himself, but she jerked away violently as if his touch would burn her.

“Liao-”

“Gabriel, you’ve been- _different,_ ever since that case a few weeks ago.”

His guts shifted, turning into cold, hard cement in his belly. “I- A few weeks ago?” He searched for a memory, but his entire life seemed a misty haze. Had something happened a few weeks ago? Something must’ve.

“Gabriel, do you seriously not…” She blinked in surprise, concern softening her hard features. “I think you might want to see a doctor. How you could ever forget _that…”_

“What happened?” He found himself scarcely able to speak louder than a whisper. None of his coworkers had even bothered to look up at the scene.

“It was the serial killer, Gabriel. That owl freak.”

_Soft breathing. The snap of a matchstick striking against something hard. The sudden bright, searing flame. It illuminated nothing but the hand holding it, and finally, the face that loomed in. Only illuminated by shreds of light- High cheekbones, a sharp, angular face._

_“You’ll do.” A woman’s voice, soft and rasping. The touch of cold- inhumanly cold- fingers to his chin, as he jerked his head up. He shook his head, gasping desperately for breath- The darkness was cold, unfeeling, and terror weighed him down in the depths of it._

_He shivered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut as her fingers moved from his waistline to trace the musculature of his belly. “You’re in good shape for an older man, Gabriel. I think… I think you’ll do just fine. Maybe even better than fine.”_

_“F-fine how?” Damn that stutter. Cold and fear weren’t making him think straight._

_“You’re fit. You’re strong in mind and body. But you need training. Modification. Understanding. And then you can realize your full potential.”_

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He couldn’t fight the sob from tearing its way out of his throat._

_“That will come in time.” Her fingers drew away, and he slumped in his bonds, struggling to bring air into his trembling chest. “For now, you are afraid. What can I do to quell some of your terror?”_

_“Start by-” God, he was shaking so badly, so badly. “- Cutting these ropes off. Turning some lights on. So I can see you when I fucking kill your ass.” His lips were numb, and he was pretty sure he’d stuttered some of that. Cold and fear. He flexed his toes. Couldn’t feel those either._

_She laughed. “That is exactly the kind of attitude someone such as yourself should have. You’ll enjoy carrying my Mantle.”_

_“Your what?” He wheezed._

_“My Mantle. Your Mantle, in time.”_

_“The fuck is a Mantle?” He asked, anger buried in his tone._

_“Perhaps a simple explanation is the best. It is a burden, and simultaneously, a rush unlike anything you’ve ever known." A soft breath._ _“It feels good, Gabriel. Even if you are scared or unwilling now, you will understand once the Mantle is gifted to you.”_

_“I’m not taking any fucking Mantle, and if you think I’m doing a single fucking thing you want you’re deluded in addition to being a fucking psychopath.”_

_“It is yours. Whether you like it or not. Now, just remain where you are, sit still, and…”_

_There was a searing bright light, a thundering crash. He heard the woman standing before him shriek, felt a hazy mist cloud his brain. He blinked, trying to stay awake, to see if whoever had come was his savior or his doom. The white light pierced his mind, keeping him from thinking- All he could hear was TV static gently thrumming in his ears, for what felt like hours. The light eventually flipped to blackness, and he got a chance to rest._

_After a while he felt movement around him, and stirred enough to comprehend snippets of conversation. A woman and a man- He was slung around their shoulders, feet dragging. His eyes were too blurry and his head hurt if he kept them open too long, so they slid closed._

_“What do we do with him now?” The man asked._

_“What do we tell Liao?” The woman countered._

_What would he tell Liao. That he’d been kidnapped? Humiliated and tortured, however briefly? She’d kick him off the force, and he knew what kind of downward spiral that would be. If he went out of a job, he’d turn to booze, and from booze, probably dead. He liked his job._

_He made a vaguely protesting noise._

_They ignored him._

_“Liao’s going to be angry.” The woman sighed._

_“She’s always angry. But, Christ, the Reaper went after one of her officers. Do you she picked him intentionally?”_

_“Liao or the Reaper?”_

_“The Reaper.”_

_“Christ, I dunno. He’s been under Liao for a decade now, right? Plenty of time for the Reaper to specifically pick someone that’ll needle Liao.”_

_“Who,” Gabriel managed, fighting to stay conscious._

_“Oh, shit. He’s waking up.” The man said, sounding surprised. “Fuck. Um, what do we-?”_

_“Calm down, rookie. He won’t remember any of this.” She soothed him. “Let’s just take him back, and tell Liao what happened. She’ll make up a story to tell the other mortal officers. Gabriel won’t remember anything, so when people tell him what happened, his mind will fill in the gaps. Human brains are good like that. When memories are gone, a person’s mind will just make up new ones.”_

_“Really? I don’t think they talked about that in Basic. Have you done a job like this before?”_

_“Extracting mortals when they accidentally see something supernatural? I’ve wiped dozens of minds by now. I’m just sorry you had to see the Reaper’s handiwork.”_

_Gabriel remembered them, when he’d been lured into the house. Withered corpses, with pus-filled lesions, expressions contorted in agony. Skeletal fingers, emaciated bodies, most of them naked. Looking as though they’d been drained of spirit and blood. The glassy eyes in wrinkled sockets had been the most haunting out of all the features. A couple of the older, rotting corpses had nests in their ribcages, where owls had started to lay eggs. The smell was indescribable, and Gabriel shook just thinking about it._

_“God dammit. I’ll be fine, but a mortal man put through all this trauma… Are you sure he’ll be okay?”_

_“A mind wipe is all he needs. If nothing comes back to trigger these memories, he’ll live a normal, boring mortal life.”_

_“The Reaper won’t come back for him?”_

_“We need to put a guard on him to deter her, but after this, she knows we’re hunting for her.”_

_“Liao would volunteer.”_

_“We’ll have to ask her.”_

_Gabriel’s consciousness wavered. They were still talking, and he wanted to hear more, although very little of it actually made sense._

_He blacked out._

“Gabriel?” Liao said, snapping her fingers expectantly. He started, the memory stinging his mind fresh and new. God, he remembered every revolting touch, every shiver, every note of confusion.

“I d-” He glanced around, like a panicked animal. Positive _something_ was out to get him. Positive that the woman would be back, that she would force her Mantle on him and do- Do _something._ His throat was dry. “L, Liao-”

“Gabriel-” Concern colored her features. “Gabriel, go lie down. I’ll come talk to you in a minute- Get some water, chill out.”  

“Yeah,” He said, voice numb and shaky. Holy shit. He’d been… He’d been kidnapped. The darkness, the quiet, the _words,_ it all swirled together into a terrifying mixture and he just wanted it all to _stop._ “Yeah.”

He turned and headed down the hallway, and was relieved rather than startled when he saw a confused Ana rummaging through his desk.

“Hi,” He said, wearily.

She spun on heel, eyes wide, and launched herself at him. Surprisingly spry for an old woman.

She was warm against his skin, a counterpoint against the office, which seemed surprisingly cold. She smelled like a grandma, one of those floral-but-not-quite-floral clean scents.

“I could go for a hug,” Gabriel said, fighting to keep himself on his feet and not just rudely sag onto the old woman. “Usually you have to ask first, though.”

“Mr. Reyes,” She thumped him on the back, sounding halfway to tears.

“What?” He replied, blinking in surprise. “Sorry I didn’t hug first, I’ve been busy.”

“No _jokes,_ Mr. Reyes.” She pulled away from him, glaring. Her one good eye glistened with tears. “Where are you right now? _Tell me.”_

“You’re in my brain, aren’t you?” Gabriel folded his arms, index drumming against his forearm. “You should know just as well as I do.”

“Gabriel!” She balled her fingers into fists. “You’re not home, where in _hell_ did you go? Are you in the forest? Are you alone? Are you safe?”

Gabriel stared at her, bewildered. “What?”

“Reyes, I am halfway to _slapping_ that foolish look off of your face! Where _ARE_ you?”

“With the lion bird.”

“Lion bird?” She asked, disbelief in her voice. “What _lion bird_ are you talking about?”

“You were there!” Gabriel objected, a little defensive at the scolding. “You’re my brain, aren’t you?”

“Gabriel, I am _NOT_ part of your brain! I am _speaking to you_ in your _dream_ because it’s the only way I can get ahold of you!” Ana fumed. “Some magic-users can insert themselves into others’ dreams, and I am one such person!”

Gabriel’s mind went blank as he tried to process that, the expression on his face akin to someone who’s been told terrible news they didn’t quite understand.

“Get out of my head!” Gabriel snarled, drawing back from her. “I didn’t say you were allowed in, what the- I trusted you!”

“Gabriel, I don’t care what you think or what you want, I want to know where you are and I want to know RIGHT NOW.” She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him defiantly.

“I’m in the middle of the forest, I don’t- Wait a minute, has it been you in my dreams the _whole time?_ In my apartment? After I beat the fuck out of that rapist piece of shit!? That was you, the _real you?”_

“Yes.” She said, plainly.

“That- That was private-” Gabriel balled his hands into fists. “Get out of my head!”

“Mr. Reyes, don’t- I didn’t want to mislead you, but you assumed, and I thought it would be easier if I went along with it.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. I’m going to sit here until my dream is over, and until you get out of my fucking brain, Ana.”

She inhaled softly through her mouth, looking worried. “At least tell me if you’re safe.”

“Yeah, I’m safe. The lion bird I’m with is… Is nice, for a monster.” Gabriel begrudgingly responded to her, suspicion flickering in his voice.

“Describe it to me?”

“I guess.” Gabriel muttered. “White fur, white feathers. It’s got… Bird legs. And big bird wings on its back. Everything from its butt up is a lion. Big white mane.”

“That sounds like a griffin.” Ana said tentatively.

“I thought they had bird faces and lion asses?” Gabriel frowned.

“Not necessarily. For example, mermaids are known for having fish tails, but there are also fish with human legs. It’s somewhat rarer than the default pattern, but it happens. Genetic mutation. Either that, or you have a very poor shapeshifter ferrying you around the forest.”

“He’s nicer than anyone at your house ever was,” Gabriel knew he had no license to sound that bitter, but he carried on regardless. “I think he genuinely cares.”

Sympathy glittered in her single eye, and he woke up.


	9. Hot Single Bird Lions In Your Area

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Gabriel have a quick chat about the Reaper.

Gabriel woke up to sunlight in his face and birds twittering softly in his ears. When he attempted to muzzily sit up, he was stopped by an arm wrapped around his shoulder. A  _ human  _ arm.

“Argh!” He scrabbled at the leaves and forest floor, lurching forward as he extricated himself. The dreams burned in his mind, and his heart jumped into his throat as he wondered if he was with the woman who’d tortured him. 

Uh, no. He was looking at an old man curled up in the crook of a massive tree’s roots. Indignation burned through him as he realized they’d been  _ cuddling.  _ Whoever this guy was, he was getting a smack in the face, old or not. 

Actually, upon closer inspection, he was younger than he initially appeared. It was the white hair that’d thrown Gabriel off, and the appearance of a couple premature wrinkles. Gabriel had initially pegged him as, like, eighty, but this guy was no older than forty or fifty years old, probably. 

“Hey!” Gabriel barked, nudging the guy with the toe of his boot. “Wake up!” 

“Is this an attack?” The man asked casually, not even bothering to open his eyes. This asshole wasn’t even asleep!

“It might be if you don’t tell me why the fuck you were spooning me.” Gabriel snapped. 

“I’m pretty sure you were the one that cuddled next to me. Not my fault.” The corners of the man’s mouth turned up in a smile. “Did you enjoy the food I got for you?” 

“The f-” Gabriel’s brain chugged along on the shitty choo-choo tracks in his head, and he came to a realization. “Holy shit, you’re the lion-bi- I mean,  _ griffin.”  _

“Sharp as a whip.” The man sounded amused. “My name’s Jack. How about yours?” 

“Gabriel. But I really want to know is why you let me believe you were a dumbass animal the whole time!” 

“It let me judge your character.” He said matter-of-factly. 

“I’ll judge  _ your  _ character, dick!” Gabriel stamped a foot for emphasis. “You’re a dick, consider yourself judged!” 

“Hey, watch it.” Jack’s blue eyes met his, disapproving. “Step on me and you’ll regret it.” 

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Gabriel folded his arms, glaring down at the griffin-turned-human. “You look like you’re about to play shuffleboard in hell, you old bastard, what’re you gonna do to me?” 

“You were a better person when I was a griffin.” Jack observed aloud.

“Shut up! Are you taking me home or not?” 

“Not before I get some answers.” Jack replied, calm as you please.

“Oh,  _ you  _ need answers! The shapeshifting cat bird in the middle of the  _ forest  _ needs answers, not the confused  _ human  _ who was jerked around by it for an entire day-” 

“Get over yourself.” Jack’s voice is amused.

“I’ll get over  _ you,  _ cabron, when I curbstomp that dumbass smile off your face.” Gabriel threatened. Jack regarded him with the same calm smile and infuriatingly blue eyes, sitting up. After a moment, the look slid off his face and transferred into something far more serious.

“That face you drew into the dirt- Do you know what it is?” 

“After the dream I had last night? More of an idea than I want to.” Gabriel confessed quietly. 

“That explains the twitching.”

“Twitching?” 

“You were moving. Mumbling. Mentioned a ‘Liao’ a couple times. I almost thought you were having a wet dream, but-” 

“Okay, we’re not going there.” Gabriel interrupted sternly. “I have some… Repressed memories. You ever heard of supernatural cops? I think a couple of people on the force are…” 

_ Liao. God, what is she? Is she one of these things too?  _ His closest friend in the world… He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle her being a monster.  _ She could be human. I’m human and I know about all this monster stuff now.  _

“Of course.” Jack looked at him like he was an idiot. “There are all kinds of transhuman creatures in modern society.  _ I’m  _ one.” 

“You’re a dumbass lion bird who lives in the middle of the woods, you don’t count!” 

“I’m here for hibernation.” Jack deflected.

“Lions don’t hibernate, and neither do birds!” Gabriel argued.

“South for the winter?” Jack suggested. 

“This is California, not Mexico!”

“I thought butterflies were the ones that went to Mexico? Anyway, California is warm compared to Indiana.” 

“Is that where you’re from?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What do you do there when you’re not a griffin?” 

“I farm.” Jack replied comfortably.

“You’re a farmer?”

“Yeah, that’s what ‘I farm’ means.” Jack’s mouth quirked up in a tiny grin.

“Real funny,  _ Jack- _ ass.” Gabriel harrumphed. 

“I haven’t heard  _ that  _ one before.” He rolled his eyes. “Look, back on topic. Do you know what that symbol you drew means or not?” 

“It’s a mask. It’s been cropping up in my dreams. All I can figure is it’s nothing good.”

“You have that right, at least.” Jack’s lip curled. “It’s  _ her  _ sigil.” 

“Her?” Gabriel echoed. 

“The Reaper.” Jack kept his voice no louder than a murmur. “The current Reaper. Or, the bearer of the Reaper’s mantle.”

“So ‘her’ and the Reaper are different things?” 

“Yes.” 

“What  _ is  _ the Reaper, then? Gabriel ventured.

“A manifestation of evil.” Jack’s voice was cold and serious. “It doesn’t have a body of its own, so it foists itself on a living host. It gives the host supernatural powers similar to a ghost or a sorcerer.” 

“There’s always a drawback,” Gabriel said, throat dry. “What’s this ones’?” 

Jack’s gaze was sharp and serious. “It leeches humanity and life out of the host until they’re barely more than a vessel. At that point, the host gets a grace period to find a new host, then dies once the Reaper finally moves on.”

“How long does a host get?” 

“Depends.” Jack sounds wary now. “If they’re fit, if the Reaper likes them, if they use their powers smart, probably double the average lifespan. If you were, say, thirty, and you would’ve lived to eighty, you’d get a hundred years before the Reaper drank you dry. But you have to be  _ smart.  _ Most hosts die in less than a decade.”

“How do you know?” Gabriel asked. “The way you talk about it, it sounds like the Reaper is a huge mystery, but you know a whole ton about it.”

“It’s an infamous thing. Mothers threaten their children by telling them the Reaper will snatch them up, and a lot of mythical beasts’ tales to their young are cautionary warnings about it. To add on to that, every living creature can feel it when the host dies. Like somebody tapped a hammer against your spine, or a compulsive shiver. Even humans can feel it, although they won’t know what they’re feeling. When a new host is claimed, you can feel it, too. Poor bastards.” 

Gabriel felt sick.

“Jack- I think- I think it was me. I was supposed to be the new host.” He said, slightly numb. “I remember…” 

Jack blinked, startled. “You’re- Oh, God, I’d only assumed you were some fool mortal that needed help.”

“I am,” Gabriel said weakly. 

“Help hiding from the  _ Reaper?”  _ He must’ve realized how his tone made Gabriel feel, because his expression softened. “Sorry. I would say it can’t be done, but I’m on this ride now, and I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try.” 

“Thanks.” Gabriel said begrudgingly. “What now?” 

“The wisest move would be to  _ not  _ head back to wherever you live. You’re going to be vulnerable and it’s exactly where they expect you to be.” Jack frowned. 

“They? It’s just Angela and the Reaper woman after me, right?” 

“It’s an entire  _ cult,  _ Gabriel.” Jack sighed. “There are hundreds of people behind the Reaper. Most of them supernatural creatures.”

“What?” Gabriel took a second to process that. “So there are hundreds of people-”

“Hunting you down, that’s right.” Jack said grimly. 

“Sh- Shit.” Gabriel looked down at his feet. What the  _ hell  _ was he even supposed to do? There wasn’t a witness protection program on the planet that’d keep him safe from supernatural hunters. From what he’d seen and from what he knew, magic was a powerful ass force and nothing to mess with, and if a magic-user wanted something to be found, it’d be found. Gabriel almost wished he didn’t have popular media knowledge about magic, because then he’d probably less fucking terrified. 

“Are you alright?” Jack leaned forward to put a hand on his shoulder, and Gabriel glared at him, teary resentment building a lump in his throat. 

“Don’t worry about me, asshole.” He muttered. “What would they do to me?” 

“The ritual of how the host passes is a secret.” Jack gave him a sympathetic look that he almost despised. It made the lump in his throat grow bigger. “I don’t know. I also don’t know why they singled you out. You look pretty ordinary to me. Smell and feel like it too, except…” 

“Except what?” Gabriel intently focused on how he trailed off, his heart skipping a beat and stomach sinking like a stone. What could possibly single him out as a target even more?

“You look like an ordinary mortal, and smell like one too. But it’s obvious you’ve been singled out, even without that harpy trying to take you to the Reaper.” 

“Thanks for stopping her, by the way.” It had abruptly occurred to him that he hadn’t thanked Jack for possibly saving his life. Or, if not saving his life, saving him from whatever the Reaper intended for him.

“That wasn’t a problem.” Jack dismissed it quickly. “You have a… A… I don’t know how to describe it, but someone or something has left a mark on you. Vampires do it to signal to other vampires that a human is their prey. Pixies do it to target mortals for harassment. It’s- It’s a supernatural thing, mortals couldn’t tell. It tells other creatures to not bother you.” 

“Can all magical creatures see it?” 

_ Why didn’t Ana say something? Why didn’t Jesse or Hanzo or Reinhardt say anything?  _

_ You know why, Gabriel. They were probably trying to protect you by keeping you in the dark. _

_ Not like it did any fucking good, though.  _

“It’s faint. I probably couldn’t tell unless I was looking for it specifically. It must be a year or two old, and it feels especially  _ strange.”  _

He could feel the Reaper’s claws running down his chin, feel chills lance up his spine and make him stiffen. Gabriel attempted to shake the memory off. 

“That fits up with… Yeah.”

“Fits up with what?” 

“I’ve met the Reaper before.” Gabriel exhaled.

“In person?” Jack’s head shot up. “No wonder the mark feels so- So  _ off.  _ Because it’s not a normal creature who marked you, it’s the Reaper. This is especially bad, Gabriel.” 

“Tell me what I don’t know!” Gabriel shouted. It wasn’t fair to take this out on Jack, but it all tumbled out, unchecked. “I  _ know  _ I’m fucked, Jack, shut up, I’m trying to  _ stop thinking about it!”  _

There was a beat of silence between the two. 

“We should get you somewhere safe.” 

“I want to go  _ home,”  _ Gabriel snarled. “Either you take me home or I’m going myself!” 

“Hold on!” Jack barked. “It’s not  _ safe.  _ I don’t care how much you want to get back to wherever you’re from, going back is suicide.” 

“I don’t care! I’m  _ done  _ with-” Gabriel threw his arms out wide. “I’m done with all of this! I just want to go  _ home,  _ God! I want to climb on my couch and watch Netflix until I pass out, I’m sick and tired of being so fucking  _ sick and tired!  _ And I’m just- I want to get yelled at by Liao, I want to be alone in my apartment. I want everything to be the same as it was.” 

Gabriel adamantly refused to cry, so he forced down tears and glared at Jack, cold and defiant. 

Jack’s expression was mournful. 

“Gabriel, I’m sorry. But you seem like a good human, and I don’t want you to become the Reaper.”

“I don’t care.” Gabriel muttered. If he became the Reaper, could he go home and leave all this madness behind?

“Yes, you do.” Jack replied patiently. “We’re going to get you somewhere safe, Gabriel.” 

“Where?” Gabriel did  _ not  _ wipe his eyes and he did  _ not  _ sniffle a little bit, so shut up. 

“The nymphs should keep you under wraps.” Jack mused aloud. “They’re good about keeping things hidden. Satya and Hana are the ones I know the best, although Hana’s not exactly reliable. She’s hardly more than a child.” 

“And you think they can-?” 

“Keep you safe, yes.” Jack frowned. 

“I’d rather stay with you.” Gabriel muttered. “I think it’s too late for you to pass the buck to somebody else.” 

“I was afraid you’d say that,” He delivered it with a laugh instead of a scowl. “So we’re partners now?” 

“Don’t make it  _ gay,  _ Jack.”

“Says the cuddler.” 

“Shut up.” 

A smile from Jack, and the man stood all the way up. He arched his back magnificently, giving off a cavernous yawn. Gabriel swore he could hear some vertebrae in the man’s spine crack, but if it hurt, he gave no indication. 

“Well, if we’re not going to the nymphs, let me see… The safest place I could think of for you is back at my nest, but I get the feeling that’s not exactly where you want to live out the rest of your days.” 

“You got something right, white bread.” Gabriel told him. 

Ignoring Gabriel’s praise, the man carried on. “I  _ do  _ know a place, actually. The park ranger here is part of a supernatural and international task force. She’s reliable, responsible, and very good at what she does. Her name is Lena, but she’s codenamed Tracer.” 

“Why?” 

“She’s a witch, and she’s nailed the ability to blink.” 

“Uh, I can blink too, Jack.” 

“I don’t mean actual blinking.” An incredulous shake of his head. “In magic circles, teleportation can be called blinking.” 

“Teleportation?” Gabriel imagined that a moment. “That’s cool.” 

Jack shifted slightly. “I was part of that task force, you know.”

“Was?” 

“I retired.” 

“And you said you weren’t old.” Gabriel trilled.

“I didn’t retire because I was  _ old,  _ I retired because-” 

“- You started to slow down at your incredibly advanced age? That’s still getting old,  _ amigo.”  _

“Shove it,” Jack barked, unamused. “Forget I said anything at all. We’re heading for Tracer.” 

“Do I get to ride on your back this time?” Gabriel asked hopefully. He wasn’t looking forward to walking all that way, not in the slightest.

“If you can’t keep up.” There was an edge of a challenge in the griffin’s voice, and Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

“You’re on, asshole.” 


	10. Caged by the Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel finds himself feeling something for Jack. After he learns a piece of the truth the griffin had been hiding, he's pretty sure he's not going to stick around.

“Mind if I share something with you?” 

“Of course not.” 

“I’m terrified.” 

“You should be.” 

“I thought you were going to tell me to be brave, Aslan.” 

“Aslan?” 

“The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” 

“Is that the one with Narnia, or the one with the red slippers?” 

“How backwoods  _ is  _ Indiana?” 

That earned a laugh from Jack. “It’s pretty rural. Who’s Aslan, though?” 

“He’s a talking lion.” 

“I’m a griffin.” 

“Same thing.” 

“They’re different,” Jack argued, swatting aside a low-hanging branch. “Lions don’t have wings.” 

“Griffins are supposed to have bird faces.” Gabriel countered.

“I was born that way. The way magical creatures are put together isn’t an exact science.” Jack’s tone is wrought with disapproval. “Back to what we were talking about. You’re terrified, you said?” 

“Yeah. I had a little bit to think about this, and I thought I’d- you know, get a bit less…” Gabriel trailed off. “I thought after I had a couple hours…” 

“You’d stop feeling it? It’s a scary world, Gabriel.” Jack’s voice bordered on sympathetic and neutral. “It’s stupid to not be scared. We’re in a dangerous situation right now, you moreso than me.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better, asshole.” 

“I go by ‘jackass’, actually.” Mildly humorous. “Jack for short.” 

“I know.” Gabriel replied, irate. “You said.” 

“Do you ever let anyone call you ‘Gabe’?” 

“Liao’s the only one I ever let do that.” 

“The only one you  _ let  _ do that?” 

“Yeah. Everyone else either didn’t, or I threatened them until they stopped.” 

“Threatened them?” 

“‘Call me Gabe again and I’ll rip your balls off and stuff ‘em down your throat’.” He barked. “Stuff like that.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t like being called Gabe.” 

“Any reason?” Jack asked innocently. 

“It feels too- close.” The cop replied simply. “I only like my  _ friends  _ shortening my name.” 

“Gabe is too intimate for you, huh?” 

“Stop.” Gabriel gave him a warning glance over his shoulder. “If you call me Gabe, I’m going to neuter you, whether you’ve got lion, bird,  _ or _ human junk.” 

“Fine.” Jack shrugged the slightest bit, and the two lapsed into a slightly awkward silence. 

The now-familiar sound boots over crunching leaves and the rustle of foliage in the breeze proved to be at least mildly soothing to Gabriel, because his temper settled.

“What’s Indiana like, Jack?” 

“Well, I only ever stayed in the fields. Had an old house I built my hoard in.” 

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that. Dragons are the ones that build hoards, right?” 

“Many species do it. Mermaids, griffins, pixies- Most creatures have hoarding tendencies, actually.” 

“Huh. Why is yours a bunch of guns and not, say, gold?” 

“Because I’m not interested in gold.” 

“Where do you get the guns?” 

“I borrow them.” 

“You mean  _ steal?”  _ Gabriel corrected. “I should arrest you.” 

“No offense, but there’s not a mortal prison on this planet that could hold me.” 

“It’s the principal.” Gabriel argued. “I can’t let you go around taking other people’s guns, Jack.” 

“What if I told you they were poachers?” Jack asked mildly. “They shouldn’t be using them anyway.” 

“I guess. But they shouldn’t belong to  _ you.”  _

“Give me a pass, officer.” Jack cracked a tiny smile. 

“Only because you asked nicely.” Gabriel waved his hand flippantly. “I  _ guess _ you can’t exactly use them.” 

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Jack said, a hint of affection in his voice. Gabriel tried to ignore it, feeling something stirring in his gut. He should  _ not  _ be feeling fluttery by excusing a crime. God dammit. “I told you about me. Can I get anything about you?” 

“Well, my name is Gabriel Reyes. I’m an officer of the LAPD. I’m forty-three.” Gabriel shrugged slightly. “Not much more than that.” 

“The LAPD?” Something like recognition dawned in his eyes. “You’re from Los Angeles?” 

“Yeah. Born and bred, never moved away.” 

There was a pause, so long that Gabriel wondered if Jack had heard him at all.

“Dangerous area.” Jack said vaguely. Gabriel sensed there was more to it than that- The hamster in Jack’s head was running frantically on its wheel, that much Gabriel could tell.

“Stay with me, Wings.” Gabriel snapped his fingers near Jack’s face. “Something on your mind?” 

“Just thinking. How did you get here? In the middle of the forest?” 

“I honestly have no idea. That’s the biggest part of this damn mystery right now. It wasn’t Angela, it wasn’t you, it wasn’t Ana, it wasn’t the Reaper…” 

“We’ll probably figure it out.” Jack said, although he didn’t sound exactly confident in that. “Someone’s going to come forward eventually. Someone had a purpose in putting you here.” 

“I know,” Gabriel said grimly. 

“Well, let’s move on.” Jack shrugged slightly. “Any family?” 

“Not exactly. My parents don’t talk to me very much, and I don’t have any siblings.” 

“No wife?” Jack looked surprised. “Or husband.” 

“No,” Gabriel replied sourly. 

“Girlfriend? Boyfriend?” 

“No.” 

“Any friends?” 

“Liao. She’s our captain. Winston, too, I guess.” 

“Two people.” Jack tried to sound understanding, but there’s a stab of pity that ran through his voice. Gabriel hated it, and momentarily had to force himself to not snap at the other. 

“I like it this way,” Gabriel explained before Jack could say some dumb sympathetic shit. “Not that many people to keep track of. How many friends do  _ you  _ have?” 

“The nymphs, Tracer, some other griffins back in Indiana, everyone who used to be on the task force. But I also live by myself in the woods and not in a human city full of people.” Jack frowned. 

“Shut up, Jack.” 

“I’m just- I’m just wondering. Do you ever get lonely?” 

“I said  _ shut up,  _ Jack.” 

“Forget I asked. Any pets?” 

“No.” Gabriel replied begrudgingly. 

“Not even a fish or something?” Jack sounded simultaneously curious and disappointed. Gabriel tolerated his dumb blond ass.

“No, I don’t have a fish or something.” 

Jack looked away, and the walk continued in silence.

After a couple hours ( but who was counting? Gabriel didn’t have a watch or his phone ) Jack finally decided to stop walking and take a seat.

“We’re going to need food soon.” Jack told him. “Yesterday was a start. But I need to eat more and you need to eat something nutritious.” 

“I can survive on marshmallows.” Gabriel insisted. 

“The hell you can.” Jack huffed. “I’ll be back. You  _ eat  _ the berries I get for you, or I swear to God I’ll have to cram them down your throat.” 

“That’s just about the only thing you’ll be cramming down anybody’s throat,” Gabriel muttered sourly. 

“I’m not dignifying that. Just stay  _ here,  _ alright?” 

“Fine.” Gabriel laid a hand on one of the closest tree trunks. “You  _ come back,  _ though.” 

“I did last time.” Jack assured him. He moved off into the woods, and Gabriel wondered if he’d shapeshift back into his griffin body to look for stuff. He’d prefer berries from his hand rather than his mouth. “I mean it, Gabriel, don’t  _ go  _ anywhere!”

“Am I a fucking little kid,  _ cabron?  _ I know! Get out of here!” 

Jack eventually disappeared, padding into a thick clump of trees gradually sloping downhill. Gabriel sat down, sighing gently.

His calves hurt. So did his thighs. And his feet. He pulled up the leg of his jeans awkwardly, kneading the dark skin beneath. It didn’t really help all that much, but the repetitive motion and tiny bit of relief it brought with it was welcome. He was not looking forward to getting back up again- How many miles would they have to limp along before they reached Tracer? Five? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? How many miles could he go in a day? How many miles  _ should  _ he go in a day? He wished that he’d taken up Liao’s offer to go hiking in Yosemite a couple months ago. He would’ve at least been  _ slightly  _ prepped for this rugged terrain. 

He wondered if Liao had known he’d be stuck in this situation.

He wondered if it’d been  _ Liao  _ who put him here. After all that’d happened to him, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had some kind of sinister agenda when it came to being his friend. Was she even really his friend at all? Had it  _ all  _ been an act? He’d known Liao for years and years and years, but if she’d  _ known  _ that he was going to be chosen to be the Reaper’s host… Maybe all those laughs at his biting snark and those concerned looks weren’t for Gabriel Reyes, her friend, but for Gabriel Reyes, the victim and potential bearer of the Reaper’s Mantle. 

Dumping him here didn’t make  _ sense,  _ though. If she had only shallowly cared about him because he could potentially become the Reaper’s host someday, she’d never let him out of her sight, much less dump Gabriel in the middle of the woods. He reluctantly came to the conclusion that he didn’t  _ know  _ Liao’s motivations, and even worse, after knowing her for over a half decade, he had no idea who she really was. He didn’t know if she was mortal, monster, or otherwise magical, if she was a good person or a bad one, if her reasons were selfishly or selflessly motivated, if she considered herself Gabriel’s friend, or if she’d been pretending to like him this entire time. 

It was a depressing thing to think about.

He reached into his pocket and started stuffing the last of the marshmallows in his mouth. He deserved it, God dammit. Most people didn’t go through this kind of mindfucking emotional trauma in their entire lives, much less in the short… How long had it been? Four days? Five days? A week? He was starting to lose his grip on how long he’d been in this crazy magic world. It felt like years. 

“Gabe, you still here?” A voice yelled somewhere close by.

“God’s sake, Jack, I told you, it’s  _ Gabriel.”  _ He called back, forcing some irritation in his voice but not finding himself that angry. Jack had been upfront, loyal, honest. Moreso than Liao, it was turning out. At least he knew what Jack was, what his motivations were, and where he was from. The griffin had provided more about himself in an hour than Liao had told Gabriel in years. 

“Sorry, Gabe.” The man meandered over, dark greyish-blue berries cupped in his palms. “They’re edible, even for mortals. I had a couple.” He held his palms out for Gabriel, gesturing for Gabriel to cup his palms to receive the berries. Gabriel accepted a handful, keeping his eyes on Jack. The griffin sat down beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and popped one into his mouth, swallowing exaggeratedly. “They’re safe, I told you.”

Gabriel pushed him slightly, giving off a snort, and he tried a few. Like blueberries in texture, with the hard flesh containing soft insides, a combination of tart and sweet. They were certainly juicy, especially considering how they should probably be shriveled up by the lack of rain in the recent months. Damn droughts. 

“Don’t you need meat, Jack? You’re a cat, right?” Gabriel offered him one of the final remaining marshmallows. Jack kneaded it out with his thumbs, poking a couple berries into the white fluff. Gabriel copied it, making a sandwich of marshmallows and berries. The sugar from the ‘mallow balanced out the tartness of the juicy little fruits. He found himself liking it a lot and regretted not saving more of the marshmallows to make more berry and marshmallow sandwiches.

“I went hunting already. Caught a groundsquirrel.” Jack pulled a short, ginger-furred hair out of his teeth. 

“You didn’t cook it?” Gabriel wrinkled his nose.

“Do you see a lot of big cats roasting meat over a big fire pit?” Jack asked, exasperated. “Animals can handle raw meat far better than humans can. And it tastes much more tolerable as a griffin. Human tastes are very picky.” 

“Guess so.” They finished off the marshmallows and berries in a comfortable, warm silence. Gabriel almost didn’t want to get up. The air was chilly, but the contact of Jack’s shoulder on his and his flank pressed against Gabe’s was warm and welcome. There was a heavy, sleepy warmth to sitting here with Jack that he almost was afraid to break. It had been a while since he’d been able to just… Relax like this, in the company of a person he knew and trusted.

“We should get moving.” Jack said. “It’s a little past midday. We’ve got six or so hours of daylight left, and we should use it.” 

“Yeah.” Gabriel agreed reluctantly. He didn’t move, and Jack took the hint, getting to his feet without so much as a sound of complaint.

“Come on,” Jack encouraged, offering out his hand to Gabriel. “The quicker we go the quicker we get there.”

Gabriel took his hand, using it to haul himself to his feet. He let out a mumble of complaint that was quickly thrown by the wayside, and the two of them set out again.

It’s about an hour before Jack lifted his head towards the sky, his face blurred with dismay. Gabriel followed his line of sight, his heart shriveling on itself only a split second later.

_ I never get a fucking break,  _ Gabriel thought with a good measure of despair.

Angela landed delicately behind them, her white feathers glistening in the light. Her blond hair was radiant and warm, white when it caught the sun’s rays. She was still wearing her white tank top and sweatshort combo, but still had a healthy glow about her that Gabriel couldn’t help but envy. He’d been out in the forest with some dumbass griffin for two days now ( he probably looked and smelled like shit ) but she was goddess perfect. The world just wasn’t fair sometimes. 

“I do not need this right now,” Gabriel warned her. 

“Gabriel, I have been  _ so  _ worried!” Her blue eyes were full of tender concern. “You disappeared completely! I asked the nymphs and the birds and even went back to Ana’s, but you’d vanished off the face of the earth!” 

“I’ve been with him.” Gabriel jerked his thumb in Jack’s direction, muttering precisely the same way a teenager would to an overprotective mother. “He’s been… Watching over me, Angela.” 

She moved up to the griffin, limping slightly with her weird bird feet. “I appreciate your help- I’m terrified of what would’ve happened if he’d been stuck in the woods by himself.” 

_ Am I not a grown fucking adult?  _ Gabriel had to bite his tongue to keep from saying it aloud. But  _ really!  _ He wasn’t a stupid little child. He wouldn’t just  _ die  _ out in the middle of the woods like a little bitch. Honestly. 

“Uh- It was a pleasure.” Jack looked a little surprised and a little wary, and Gabriel didn’t blame him. Did they not just try to kill one another only a few days ago? 

It occurred to Gabriel that maybe she didn’t  _ know  _ it was him. Human Jack looked radically different than the cat monster of that night, plus it had been in the middle of the night and in the middle of the air. Hard to get a good look, Gabriel imagined. 

“I’m glad he’s safe. I’m sure you’ll be wanting some manner of compensation, Herr…?”

“Jack. Just Jack.” 

“I imagine you’ll want something in exchange for watching over Gabriel, Herr Jack.” She nodded diplomatically. “I’ll pay you back someday, but for now, I have to take Gabriel and go.”

She rounded on Gabriel with a soft smile, extending her hand out to him. “Shall we? We’re waiting for you very eagerly, Gabriel.”

“Uh-” He took a skittish step backwards, and Jack metaphorically swooped in for the rescue.

“Wait a minute, you- Where are you going to take him?” Jack clamped a hand on her shoulder. 

“He’s the new host, for the Reaper.” Angela said simply. “A change in host has been overdue for almost three years- We  _ cannot  _ delay.” 

“He’s not going to be your host,” Jack shot back, digging his fingers in harder. Gabriel stood there, poised to either attack or run, uncertain of what to do. “God dammit, pick somebody  _ else.  _ If it’s been three years since he was chosen and you  _ still  _ haven’t grabbed him, maybe it’s a sign that he’s  _ not  _ the right person for the job.” 

Angela jerked her arm away, the feathers on her arms spreading in what Gabriel perceives as anger. “You know as  _ well  _ as I do that  _ someone  _ has to be the Reaper, Herr Jack. It’s not  _ optional.” _

“Then don’t pick an ignorant mortal man and jerk him out of his cushy mortal life!” Jack shot back, vicious. “ _ I  _ promised Liao that if he ever came to this forest that I would keep him s-” 

“Hold on a  _ motherfucking  _ minute, Jack!” Gabriel cut in, pushing Angela away. “Liao? You  _ know  _ Liao?”

“She was part of the task force I mentioned. She was a soldier, with Tracer and I.” He kept his eyes rigidly fixed on Angela instead of Gabriel.

“So- So when she said she was part of the military-” 

“She was lying. To an extent. The task force I belonged to may possibly have been considered a sort of military.” 

“You son of a- You lied to me!” 

“No I didn’t.” Jack replied, calm and measured. 

“You didn’t  _ tell  _ me you knew Liao!” Gabriel shouted. “What the f- Is  _ that  _ the only reason you’ve been helping me? Because  _ Liao  _ made you? What the FUCK, Jack!?” 

“Gabriel, now is  _ not  _ the time-” 

Gabriel balled his hands into fists and swung at Jack, aiming for his nose. Jack managed to narrowly get out of the way, holding up his hands in a gesture for peace. “Gabriel! Calm down- Liao  _ did  _ ask me, but I swear I didn’t know it was you until this morning, when you told me you were from LA. Besides, what does it matter? I would’ve helped you anyway!” 

“It  _ matters  _ because I don’t  _ need  _ to be babysat like some kind of little kid!” He fumed. “I don’t need Liao’s lapdog helping me!” GOD, it wasn’t FAIR, Liao was  _ EVERYWHERE  _ and in EVERYTHING. She had poisoned Jack, his dreams, his  _ home.  _

“You were perfectly fine  _ before  _ you knew! What does it matter  _ why?”  _

“I’m a  _ person,  _ not a host or a brat who needs your babysitting! It- It  _ matters  _ that Liao put you up to this, Jack, it does!” 

“Gabriel,” Angela cut in softly. “You can say goodbye to all of them if you’re the Reaper. No more pity from Liao or Ana or Jack. No hostility from Genji. They’ll fear you, Gabriel. No tiptoeing around you, no disrespect or treating you like you’re too foolish for your own good.” 

The offer was  _ tempting.  _ Gabriel flexed his fingers, clenching them into fists and opening them again, closing his eyes. 

“I want to go home, Angela. I miss my apartment.” 

“I can take you there,” Jack barked hurriedly. “Gabe,  _ please.”  _

“Don’t call me that,” He said automatically.

“Gabriel, I’ll be completely truthful with you, I swear. Anything you want to know. Do  _ not  _ go with her.” Jack cautioned. Jack reached his hands out, approaching him slowly, and something inside Gabriel snapped. 

His fingers closed around the grip of the pistol- Thumb switched off the safety, body drew back, he braced himself for the bark of a bullet. 

The shot imbedded itself in the flesh just beneath Jack’s right collarbone, and he gave a loud holler of pain, fingers immediately clamping over the wound. The griffin cursed the air blue, staggering backwards until finally falling to a knee. Blood slicked his glove, dripping like thick syrup from the gunshot and onto the abundance of leaves on the ground. His swears slowed to harsh breathing, and Jack closed his eyes, head slumping forward.

“Excellent choice, Gabriel.” Angela’s soft, comforting fingers brushed his shoulders. “Being the Reaper… There’s nothing nobler. I’m proud of you.” 

Gabriel stood there, his fingers trembling and breath fluttering in his chest.  _ What have I just done?  _

The emotional weight of potentially murdering Jack hadn’t quite sunk in just yet, but he was shaking and God did he need someone right now. 

He leaned on Angela for support, for just a moment, softly breathing out.

The barrel of the pistol dug against her belly, and he pulled the trigger. 

She screamed in pain, eyes widening. Her hands flew to her abdomen, cupping the wound, and she fell to the ground. Her bird feet spasmed in the onslaught of pain, kicking up dirt and leaf litter until she got herself under control. She curled in on herself, the stain of red rapidly spreading her flawless white shirt. It looked so vivid, so dark, against her pale skin. Her feathers were spattered with copious amounts of bloody red, as was Gabriel’s jacket after the proximity to the shot. He backed away, flicking the safety on and exhaling shakily as he tucked the handgun back into his pocket. 

“How  _ could  _ you,” Angela sobbed. “Gabriel…” 

“If it’s worth anything, I hope neither of you die.” Gabriel said weakly. Jack made a vague snarling sound from nearby, and Angela let out a miserable moan. “I’m sorry.” 

“If you were sorry you wouldn’t have  _ shot  _ us!” Jack barked. “God, God  _ damn-”  _

Gabriel shot him a sympathetic glance, and looked around at the forest. No particular direction was that alluring, but he felt a call to the west. The direction of the sea, of the setting sun.

“Thanks for everything, Jack.” 

His mind had been made up, hadn’t it? How long ago had he decided he was going to ditch Jack? He had no idea. Maybe ever since he first met him. Gabriel wasn’t exactly a friendly person. He was best left to his lonesome, even if lonesome was synonymous with  _ lonely.  _ Those warm glimmers between the two of them- they were a fantasy that he shouldn’t,  _ couldn’t,  _ chase.

“Gabriel, where are you going?” Jack managed to unsturdily get to his feet. “Gabriel?” 

“I’m going home, Jack.” Gabriel replied. He tried not to let his uncertainty show. 

“Gabriel,  _ wait.”  _ He rasped. “These forests are dangerous. The things in it are dangerous. If you go off by yourself, you’re going to get hurt.” 

“I know what I’m doing, Jack.” Gabriel said, voice measured. He had no idea what he was doing, but it felt right, and that was all that mattered. “Don’t follow me.” 

And with that, he chased the setting sun and headed for the sea.


	11. Lone Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel wonders what to do with his newfound freedom, has a handful of mental breakdowns, and winds up getting arrested.
> 
> disclaimer: i have never been arrested, witnessed an arrest, or personally known a police officer, so some of this may be factually inaccurate
> 
> and yes, the title is a musical reference

Gabriel watched the trees flash by on the other side of the glass with a sense of detached shock. The events of the past seven days didn’t seem real anymore, not now. Everything magical had seemed so surreal, so wildly fantasized that he wasn’t entirely certain it had even happened. His hoodie, still streaked with the ruddy crust of Angela’s blood, was the only indicator he hadn’t dreamed the entire thing up. And even that didn’t  _ confirm  _ anything- He could’ve gone completely psychotic and shot an innocent forest-goer. He could’ve been so psychologically traumatized from being kidnapped and from murdering someone that he imagined the entire magical scenario in his head. 

Nothing felt real anymore. He was sure he would phase out of the squad car at any moment- But he wasn’t sure where he’d end up. Home? Ana’s house? He wanted to sleep. Hadn’t slept good in ages. Since Ana’s house, maybe. 

The cuffs chafed against his wrists as he wriggled, and he had to force himself to scrape his consciousness back together. He could have an existential crisis when he was in prison, but when he was in a squad car, he had to focus. 

What would he even say? Not the truth, obviously. He’d get institutionalized for sure, babbling about witches and griffins and harpies. He’d have to pick a coherent story and stick to it. He’d been kidnapped, and his mysterious disappearance a week ago would help corroborate that. He had shot someone, but to be fair, it was  _ Angela’s  _ blood and not Jack’s on him, and she was arguably his kidnapper, so he could say it was self-defense. She’d drugged him a couple times, to be fair. 

He wondered if any of it was still left in his bloodstream. Would he fail a drug test if he was chloroformed? He didn’t know. But keeping his  _ job  _ was the least of his worries- It looked like he was about to be shunted to prison for murder, and if his gut told him right, there was  _ going  _ to be a prison break to spring him out. Either a misguided attempt from Ana, a bloodbath massacre from the Reaper’s cult, Liao tugging some legal strings, or Jack busting him out. He didn’t know why, but the thought that Ana or Jack cared enough to try to get him out of prison was… Oddly heartwarming. He might be going loopy from lack of sleep, though, so maybe it didn’t count. Exhaustion was a bitch.

He slumped against the back of the seat. He’d been in the back seat of a patrol car before, but never with handcuffs. It was even less comfortable than he anticipated. There was something vulnerable about having your hands pinned behind your back, with your chest and throat exposed. The cop driving the squad car could decide to shoot him and he’d be completely helpless. 

He had been warped by this magical world. Even as a cop, when he’d known he could die at a moment’s notice, he’d never been this paranoid before. Never so scared that  _ someone  _ was coming for him, scared that any person was about to burst out and reveal themselves as a magic creature. He needed a break, and maybe being shunted into the court system wouldn’t be so bad. He had no doubt in his mind that Liao would find him and attempt to get him disentangled from the law completely or off on a light charge. The chances of him keeping his job were pretty slender after his disappearance and his mental state. Great. Maybe if he managed to avoid jail he could get hired by Target and either shot in the ghetto or kidnapped by another mythical beast.

_ Think positive, Gabe. C’mon. You’re not doing anything by being so bitter. You’re safe now, at least.  _

He was better than he had been a day ago.

=

He felt as though his feet had been given wings- Giddy and adrenaline-pumped from shooting Jack and Angela. He hurtled through the woods at top speed, feet barely skimming the ground. He had air in his lungs, liberty in his heart, and a goal in mind. His aching feet were forgotten, his fears were left behind, and the only things that became real to him was running so fast it seemed like he was flying. It was faith, unbridled joy, it was  _ freedom,  _ and it was good. No Jack, no Liao, no Angela, no Ana, no  _ fear.  _ He would suffer for what he had done later, but now that he was barreling through the forest at top speed, nothing could touch him. He was invincible, he was free, and he loved it. 

The slender, reaching tree trunks moved past in a hazy blur, branches creaking and whipping in his wake. There was the rustle of leaves in the trees, the thud of his feet when he managed to touch the ground, the scraping pants of his breath, and his blood thudding noisily in his ears. 

He ran, fast and powerful, and for once in the past couple of years, completely in control of his own destiny and unbridled by  _ anyone.  _ It was a feeling he hadn’t had since he was a very small child, and he enjoyed in it,  _ reveled  _ in it. He kept going, breath puffing as he sped over the forest floor and put ground between himself and Jack. 

After what felt like simultaneously an eternity and only a couple seconds, he had to start slowing down. His lungs and throat was sandpaper raw, his mouth dry. The arch of his feet hurt worse with every step, his back ached from bending it when sprinting. He was starting to feel queasy, and his calves were starting to burn, like someone had peeled back the skin and left raw muscle to scrape against hard denim. His nose was raw and painful to the point of near tears, and he swore that someone had sprayed chlorine directly into his nostrils. 

Gabriel could take a lot of abuse, but not this much for this long. He slowed down, gradually coming into a jog, then a trot, then to a complete halt, palm slapped against a nearby tree. He felt like he was going to throw up, Christ. Why did highs always involve crashing down?

He stood there for an indeterminate amount of time, just trying to get himself back into shape. He had put a lot of distance between himself and those two, and he could practically hear the ocean calling his name. Couldn’t be far. Couldn’t be far until he reached the sea. 

_ You’re delusional. You’re having delusions, Gabriel. You’re going crazy. _

_ I know. Oh my God. I shot Jack. He was my friend. _

_ He’s a griffin. Liao put him up to this.  _

_ Liao is my friend. Oh my God. Madre Dios… I shot Angela. I’m a murderer. I killed them in cold blood. _

_ Jack wasn’t your friend. He was pretending. Just like Liao. And it’s not murder- They’re not people. They’re monsters.  _

Gabriel pressed his back against the tree and slumped, covering his face with his hands.  _ That’s what they used to justify killing blacks, Gabe. God damn. God damn. I’m going to lose my badge. I’m going to go to jail. I killed them.  _

_ No you didn’t,  _ he argued with himself.  _ Jack wasn’t shot fatally. A bullet wound in the shoulder won’t kill him. He’s too smart to let himself bleed out. And Angela, she was trying to kidnap you again. It was self-defense, even if she died. _

He looked down at his jacket. The blood was drying- when he dabbed at it with his fingers, small streaks of red came away, although the edges were dried and starting to turn a ruddy brown. This was bad. Really bad. The stench of it was starting to sting his nose. He wanted to take it off, to fling it into some dark corner of the forest to never be seen again, but it was  _ his  _ jacket and it was going to keep him warm come night time. 

Oh, god. Night time. He had to stumble around the forest in the  _ dark.  _ God, he wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest. Who knew what might be lurking…

_ And you don’t have Jack to protect you, to keep you warm. Aren’t you smart, Gabe? You murdered a man who was just trying to help you.  _

He couldn’t justify that to himself. He buried his face in his knees. This was a mistake. He was a mistake. 

_ Get control of yourself, Gabe. You’re a police officer. You’re a fighter, you always have been, ever since you were a kid. Pick yourself the fuck up and keep walking.  _

Berating himself in his head wasn’t working, either. It just made him feel worse. God dammit. He wanted to be home- That was all he had wanted, all week, he wanted to go  _ home  _ and curl up on his bed and wake up and do his job and talk to Liao and- 

_ God,  _ he was  _ pathetic.  _

“Get up.” He muttered to himself aloud. “Get  _ up,  _ Gabe. You fucked up. Deal with it.” 

He braced himself, grabbing onto a branch and hauling himself to his feet. He didn’t feel any less terrible, but he didn’t feel any worse, so that was alright, he guessed. 

He walked along in a dissociative daze.

He wasn’t sure where his head was at, but his body seemed not his own. His movements were slow, automatic- A death march in another direction while his brain clouded over. It was like getting lost in his thoughts, without any thoughts, and it took him a long time to dully realize he had started walking west. He didn’t know where he was anymore- There was a solid gap in his memory between the tree he had stopped at and where he was now. 

He was by a tiny stream, plodding along past its bank. He stopped by it and knelt, tentatively dipping his fingers in the water. Startlingly cold, enough to get him to yank his fingers out and shake them, scattering droplets on the sandy bank. It snapped his mind back, just a little bit. 

Gabriel’s hand tentatively touched his face- sweat intermingled with dirt, and a spot of blood. His nails ripped into the spot, scraping away the drop of Angela’s blood and some of his skin with it. He cupped his hands in the water, ignoring how cold it was, and splashed his face. Grime and sweat dripped into the water and was washed away by the current- There was something symbolic about it that he didn’t understand, but it made him feel better. He inhaled shakily, water trickling through his beard and clinging to wiry hairs. He was due for a shave. 

Yeah. And right after that shave, he needed a shower, an entirely new wardrobe, a five course meal, and a place in the nearest psychiatric ward. He almost wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure that if he started laughing he wouldn’t be able to stop. 

_ I’m so fucked.  _

He got up, dusting dirt off his jeans. He wiped his face off on his sleeve, then turned back towards the setting sun and lumbered after it.  _ Just keep moving, Gabriel. Keep going.  _

Orange sunlight slanted through the trees. Birds fluttered overhead, finding roosts for the night. They twittered softly amongst themselves, nearly indistinguishable from the rustle of the leaves in the wind. Gabriel became suddenly aware of how loud he was being, with his boots crunching through the undergrowth. When he glanced back behind himself, there was a faint trail of broken twigs and crunched leaves. He hoped Jack didn’t know how to track people- There was no doubt in his mind that the stupid griffin would be staggering after him, one hand clasped over the bullet wound in his shoulder. It was… Flattering, to have someone care for him so much.

_ Focus, cabron. Can’t spare thoughts for white bread.  _ He shook his head, trying to clear the thought out.  _ Besides, he’s only doing it because Liao asked. He told you so.  _

His heart hardened and he quickened his pace. It was foreign terrain and he was exhausted from that little sprinting stunt.

Even so, Jack had been shot, and when you get shot, you’re not going anywhere in a hurry or  _ following  _ anyone in a hurry. He could afford to be leisurely, but staying in one place for too long let him dwell on… Stuff he’d rather not think about. He preferred to keep his mind clean of everything now. 

When he got home, he was going to demand answers from Liao. Who she was, if she was really his friend, how many people on the force were supernatural. Why she didn’t  _ tell  _ him. 

He was going to get some nice sleep when he got home. Flop on the couch or on his bed and just pass out. That’d be nice. He deserved a break-  _ God, _ did he deserve a break.

He continued trudging through the endless blur of green foliage, interspersed with the occasional thicket or bigass tree. The terrain gradually grew more ridgelike and hilly, forcing Gabriel to either take up amateur rock climbing or go the long way ‘round. He did a mixture of both- when it looked safe, sturdy, and short, he hauled himself up steep- sometimes eighty degrees or more- slopes. Climbing wedged dirt into the cracks of his fingers, slicked his hands in a crusty, crumbly mud that he had to rub his hands together and pick at to get rid of. 

Eventually, the last rays of the sun had to set. He stopped after the sun had completely disappeared over the horizon, only leaving a streak of orange on the skyline with a gradual fading of color from orange to grey to the black of the night sky. Jupiter and Venus already glittered overhead, tiny slits in the canopy of the inky heavens above- their number was swiftly joined by the stars as the night grew deeper. The moon was fat and low in the sky, a couple days away from full, starting to wane. 

Gabriel stood there, a shade of unease in his heart gradually growing to something considerably more massive. He didn’t want to stumble around the forest in the  _ dark-  _ Idiot and murderer he may be, he didn’t want to end up dead or lost. He also didn’t want to attempt to sleep someplace without proper shelter. He had a disturbing, niggling feeling that something dangerous still lurked somewhere in the woods. Probably some kind of hell beast that’d suck out his soul and eat it or something. Plus, if he stopped to rest, Jack would have a greater lead on catching up with him. And injured or not, a lion moved faster than a person. He needed all the distance he could get. 

He had to move slower, due to the lack of light, but the moon glowed warm above, bathing the forest in a faint silvery glow. He tripped on a crawling root on the ground, but managed to keep on his own two feet- this prompted him to start using trees as supports when he passed by them. 

It seemed almost endless. Gabriel was almost convinced he was looping back and forth, like in a cartoon or a magical story. For all he knew, he  _ could  _ be wandering in circles or being teleported back to the start every time he reached a certain distance. Gabriel didn’t _ know  _ now- With the magical world he’d been dropped into, this forest very well could be endless.

After what seemed like hours, his glimmer of hope, his light in the darkness, appeared. 

He rested one hand on a nearby tree trunk, pausing to huff for breath and rub his sleepy eyes. When he looked up, past the couple of trees still ahead… Gabriel stood before a massive clearing, made of what looked like wild wheat, foxtails, and an abundance of pale, dead grass. In the silver light of the moon and from the motion of the wind, the clearing looked like a massive ocean; the milk-white stalks rippled alluringly, invitingly in the breeze, and Gabriel’s heart fluttered.  _ Almost there. _

He needed to get up higher, to survey the area and look for man-made structures. He was close, he could feel it. It couldn’t be that far. It couldn’t be much further.

The thought kept him going. There was a hillside nearby, thirty feet or so at its crux, and he scrambled up it nearly on his hands and knees. His stomach was growling, his legs were tired, and he was strewn with dirt and grime and blood, but that didn’t matter.

When he stood at the top of that hill and cast his gaze out into the distance, a mile or less, there was a road.

Not a dirt road. Not a path. Not a trail or a sidewalk.

It was an asphalt road, black in comparison to the moonlit area around it. The little reflective bits in the middle glinted under the moon’s rays, inviting and tempting.

Gabriel Reyes was going home. 

He did what he had denied himself at the stream- He laughed, loud and joyous, ringing across the flat, open plane. He hurtled down the hill, feeling as though he were about to overstep or slip and crash to the earth at any moment, but it didn’t matter. 

Roads meant cars. Cars meant people. People meant cities. Cities meant  _ home.  _

And, God, he was comin’ home. 

=

He didn’t recall falling asleep that night- All he remembered was a mad sprint towards the road, peals of laughter shaking the entire world. It was possible he might have gone completely crazy from the sleep deprivation, from the isolation, from the exhaustion, and the lack of food. He felt better now, even if he was queasy from lack of food and maybe shaking just a little bit. 

“What’s your name, sir?” A kindly voice asked near his ear. He thought it was Ana for a moment, and his head swum, feeling like it’d been plugged up with cotton balls. He shook his head slightly, to try to clear the thick fuzziness away. 

“Gabriel.” He said, slow and cautious. His eyes had been open, but he blinked again and they were really, really open this time. 

“How are you, Gabriel?” Definitely not Ana, but most certainly female. He glanced over at her. A young woman, chubby, hints of Asiatic features. She had a slight lisp, or possibly an accent. Her hair was pinned back with some kind of snowflake charm or something, and she was in a police officer’s uniform. He didn’t recognize her from the LAPD, and he wondered momentarily if it was a costume. But that didn’t make any sense either.

“Hungry.” He replied simply. He sat up, and found himself to be propped against a tree next to the side of the road. Had he passed out here last night? Huh. There was a black and white car pulled over next to them, which was an indication that something might go very, very badly. “What’s going on?” 

“I need to ask you a few questions.” She replied, prompt and polite. Gabriel eyed her suspiciously- He’d used that line more than a couple dozen times. Ah. She was a cop. The car and her uniform suddenly came together. God, he was slow today.

“Go ahead.” 

“Have you, in the past seventy-two hours, consumed alcohol?” She seemed pleased to have his compliance.

“No.” 

“Have you, in the past seventy-two hours, used any drug? Prescription or recreational.” 

_ I was chloroformed a couple days ago, does that count?  _ “No.” 

“Okay. Can you tell me where the blood on your jacket came from?” 

He exhaled shakily. “I shot someone.” 

Her pretty, moon-shaped face fell. “Where?” 

“Out in the woods. She was trying to…” Gabriel blinked. “You’re an officer, right? I should… I should probably be taken into custody.”

“Stand up and put your hands behind your back,” She directed gently. He did as she bid him, groaning softly all the while as he forced his abused muscles to move. His body was not happy about any kind of motion, but he stood there and bore the dull burn and shrieks of pain from his limbs when he moved. “I think you are in shock.” Metal closed around one of his wrists and he had to force himself to not jerk away violently in panic. He’d been cuffed before, all of the people in the LAPD had. He just felt very… Violated, with his hands all but useless and still being stuck in the middle of the woods. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to an attorney, either in court and in questioning, and if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.” 

“I know.” He replied. There was a heartbeat of silence. “There’s a handgun in my pocket.”

“Is it yours?” She carefully reached in and took it, checking the safety was on. She quietly patted him down while waiting for his answer, but didn’t feel or find anything because there was nothing to find.

“No.” 

She stood up and gently laid a hand on his back. She applied a slight bit of pressure to get him moving and kindly escorted him towards the squad car. “It’s a long drive to the nearest station. Do you need anything right now?” 

He was malnourished, psychologically unstable, and exhausted. “No.” 

She opened the backseat door, quietly urging him to sit. He sat, and she buckled his seatbelt for him. The position was a little harsh on his arms. 

She shut the door, then clambered into the front seat. The engine came to life with a soft roar, and the officer quietly pulled away from the side of the road. 

Even though he was about to leave the forest, Gabriel realized he may not be going home for a long, long time.

  
  



	12. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Liao have a long talk about their friendship, the Reaper, the Reaper's host, and where to get lunch. Burger King, anyone?

His hands were clasped together. 

They were uncuffed for now, due to his compliance and lack of aggression. 

He didn’t have an attorney yet, and he was purposely putting off getting one. This entire situation was a complete and total mess. 

He was bent, hunched over, head bowed and nearly between his knees. Fluorescent lights buzzed incessantly overhead, but the mechanical sound was slightly comforting. It was better than being in the woods. Better than being with Angela or the Reaper.

Maybe not as good as being with Jack. 

Footsteps perked up his ears and he warily raised his head. The officer who had picked him up, officer Zhao, paced in front of the cell doors. She cut a short, friendly figure. 

“There’s someone here to see you, Mr. Reyes.” She informed him kindly. Gabriel nodded, feeling haggard by the prospect of visitors. He hoped to God it wasn’t Angela or Jack or Ana. Not only would that be embarrassing, he would have to justify running away. And with Jack, have to justify nearly attempting to kill him. 

Fortunately, it wasn’t Angela or Jack or Ana. Unfortunately, it was someone even worse.

Liao.

They stared at one another, Gabriel hardly daring to breathe or move his eyes away. One of his closest friends. A supernatural creature. His guardian. 

Her face was hard-edged as usual, her shiny black hair done up in a bob. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes were unreadable, as was the set of her jaw, the flare of her nose, and the expression of her mouth.

“You look bad.” 

“I know.” Gabriel replied, humorless and quiet. 

“Have you gotten anything to eat?” 

“Water. Officer Zhao brought me a sandwich a while back.” He glanced back at the officer, giving her a tiny nod. “Thanks again.” 

“Oh-” She went just the slightest bit red. “It’s okay.” 

“Are you okay? _ ”  _ Liao cut in.

“There’s blood all over my jacket.” He replied, slightly numbed. 

“Is it yours’?” 

“No.” 

She inhaled softly. “Whose?” 

“I shot someone, Liao.” He said, plainly. “She was two inches away from me. I shot her.” 

“Gabriel, what happened to you? When you didn’t come in to work, I- You disappeared without a trace.” 

He looked up at her dully. “What are you?” 

Confusion, genuine confusion, flickered in her eyes a moment and he wondered if he had invented Jack and Ana and Angela, and Liao was a completely normal human. His friend. “Gabe…?” 

“What are you? What kind of creature, Liao?” 

“Gabe, I’m your friend.” She set her hand against the bars.

“I know everything,” He insisted. “Werewolves. Pixies. Vampires. Witches. Harpies.” 

Both of them, Liao and Officer Zhao, flinched. Liao went paler, her expression hard to read and maybe even a little fearful. Wordlessly, Liao glanced at the chubby officer. She seemed to know what this meant, because her hands dove around in one of her pockets and eventually found a key. She promptly unlocked the cell, and Liao stepped in. 

Liao approached him, slender hands out and reaching for one of Gabriel’s hands. He flinched away, getting to his feet like a nervous horse.

Liao pulled back.

“Gabriel, I’m- I’m your friend.” She reached out again, prompting Gabriel to move from her path. “Gabriel, I’m not going to hurt you, let me see your hand!” 

“No!” He recoiled away as if he’d been burned, tucking his hand under his other arm. “Liao, I don’t know who or what the hell you are, but I’m not doing a damn thing you say until you tell me  _ what the hell is happening.”  _

She pulled back, biting her lip. “Let’s start… At the beginning. What happened to you?” 

Gabriel studied her face for a moment- Wondering if he should even bother to tell her, if she would do something terrible with the information.

_ You are not her pawn,  _ He scolded himself in his head.  _ She’s your friend. She’s scared and worried, wouldn’t you be if this situation was reversed? Of course you would. Just sit down and calmly tell her what happened, Gabe. All this magic stuff has you thinking all wrong. She’s your FRIEND.  _

Gabriel lowered himself back onto the metal bench he’d been sitting on. “I don’t remember that much. But I remember the Reaper kidnapping me.” 

Officer Zhao mumbled something, slightly shocked. 

“You know what the Reaper is?” 

“Yeah. It’s evil, right? It needs a host in order to work.” 

“That’s correct. Who told-?” 

“Let me tell the story, Liao. Questions after.” He attempted to add a dash of humor into his voice. “She kidnapped me. Someone rescued me. I think… Though I’m not sure… Someone did some magical memory erasing. I didn’t remember it until… I mean, I had a dream.” 

Liao pulled a face that he ignored.

“A couple days ago, I met a young woman. Blonde, pretty. I went home, had a feeling of… Unease. I fell asleep on my couch, and when I woke up, I was in the middle of the woods.” Gabriel recounted. “I headed up the mountainside and stayed at a house up there. Met some people. Ana Amari, a witch, Jamison, a pixie, Jesse, a werewolf, and two brothers who were vampires. Genji and Hanzo.” 

“I know them,” Officer Zhao murmured. “They send the kidnapped and lost people in the mountains to Tracer. Genji, Jesse, Ana, and Reinhardt help us with cases sometimes.” 

Gabriel’s heart sank. “Liao, you know them?” 

“No, I don’t.” She looked bewildered. “I handle matters in LA and San Diego. Santa Barbara is too far north for my section, as is Los Padres Forest.” 

“Santa Barbara… is that where we are?” Gabriel asked, blinking. 

“Santa Barbara prison.” Officer Zhao piped helpfully.

“You won’t be here for long, Gabriel.” Liao assured. “Keep telling your story.” 

“I was drugged and kidnapped my second night. Angela, a harpy, the same young woman from LA. She intended on taking me to the Reaper, but Jack stopped her.” 

“Jack? You met Jack?” Liao interjected. “I haven’t spoken with him in a year or more- How is he?” 

Gabriel’s heart shriveled.  _ Shot. I shot him.  _

“He seemed healthy.” He said instead, voice sounding inappropriately tight. “He tried to guide me to Tracer. He knew I was going to be the Reaper’s host, but he helped me regardless. He was brave.” 

“Was?” Liao’s expression faltered. 

“Liao, I-”  _ I shot him. I fucking shot him.  _

“Gabriel, what happened to Jack?” 

“He was shot.” Gabriel said distantly. “On the second day of traveling with him, Angela came back to try to persuade me to go back with the Reaper.”  _ I shot him. I shot him. Why? What was I thinking? What was I doing?  _

“What did she do, Gabriel?” Liao looked shaky. “What did she do to him?” 

“He was shot.”  _ It’s not a lie.  _ But it wasn’t the truth, either, or at least, not the  _ whole  _ truth. “So was she. I ran into the forest. Then… I guess, Officer Zhao picked me up.” He hadn’t told her of his prophetic and past dreams, or that Ana had peered into his mind, or that he, for a sparkling moment, had been tempted to rightfully claim the power of the Reaper for his own. He was out of his depth. 

“Let me see your hand.” Liao requested gently. He offered it out to her, and she took it. Her hands were soft, warm, familiar. He relaxed the slightest bit. Her delicate fingers turned his palm over, pads gingerly running over his skin. It was almost ticklish. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Checking for the influence of anything that shouldn’t be influencing you.” 

“What?” 

“Distinct marks or scents that would make the cult of the Reaper find you easier. It doesn’t look like Angela marked you… That’s either a stunning show of self-confidence, stupidity, or she’s more cunning than we thought.” 

“Cunning how?” 

“She hasn’t injured you, has she?” Liao ignored his question. 

“Psychologically, maybe.” Gabriel attempted to joke, but it sounded weak even to his own ears. 

“Okay. In a day or two we’ll get you out of here, Gabe. You can either come to live in my apartment, or have me move in with you. I don’t want to leave you on your own- God knows what’ll happen.” 

“Whatever.” Gabriel muttered, trying not to let his disappointment show. He valued his privacy and certainly hadn’t ever considered getting a  _ roommate.  _ “You still haven’t told me what you are.” 

“Who says I’m not human?” Liao replied, joking lightly. 

“Are you?” 

“No, I’m not. Transhuman would be the term for something like me.” 

“Jack mentioned that word a couple times.” 

“Transhuman? The term describes mythical creatures that have fully adapted into human society. Jack would… Would’ve counted as one, if he was in Indiana. I count as one. Officer Zhao counts as one.” 

Gabriel glanced at the short, chubby cop, surprised. “What is she?” 

“A yeti.” Officer Zhao murmured. 

“Do you shapeshift like Jack?” 

“I do! I don’t like being a yeti, though. I get so violent!” 

“Remind me to not make her mad.” Gabriel murmured to Liao, earning a snort. 

“Gabriel, this is serious. Focus.” 

“Okay.” He said, shaking his head slightly. “I get the feeling you’re not going to tell me what you are. Fine. But where do we go from here?” 

“I don’t know,” Liao said, almost apologetic. “We keep you safe until the Reaper gets a new host. They’ll pick someone else  _ eventually.”  _

“Then the Reaper still gets a new host,” Gabriel scowled. “What makes me important in all this? Why do  _ I  _ get the special protection treatment?” 

“Because you’re my  _ friend,  _ Gabriel. The Reaper has to take a new host, I just… I don’t want it to be you.” 

The expression on her face and her words made his heart feel… Oddly soft. His voice was much less vicious, much less accusatory, when he continued on. “How long have you known I was the chosen host?” 

“Ever since the Reaper’s current Mantle-bearer decided to go after you. Two years. Nearly three.” 

Gabriel mulled on that for a moment. “We’ve known each other for almost a decade.” 

“ _ Yes,  _ Gabriel. You’re my  _ friend,  _ even before the Reaper singled you out.” 

“Why me?” 

“You’re witty, you’re strong, you’re brave, even if you’re a little violent-”

“I don’t mean why you’re friends with me, I mean why the Reaper picked  _ me  _ in particular. Isn’t that how it works? The thing picks, not the Mantle?” 

“It seems to have a habit of picking people I know.” She scowled. “The current host is a woman by the name of Amelie LaCroix. You remember Gerard?” 

“Uh…” 

“He worked with the LAPD a decade ago. You must’ve seen him a handful of times.”

Gabriel pressed the heel of his hand against his head. “Uhh.. French guy? He moved on to SWAT, right?” 

“Nine years ago, his wife Amelie took up the Reaper’s Mantle and killed him.” 

“Christ.” Gabriel sucked in a breath. “Wait a second. She’s only been the Reaper for nine years, then, and I was picked as the new host almost three years ago. Jack said you can be the Reaper for a hundred years.” 

“If you’re a  _ good  _ Reaper.” Liao corrected. “Amelie is not a good Reaper, nor is she a particularly strong one. I get the feeling she took the mantle solely to kill Gerard and dig at our organization.” 

“What  _ is  _ your organization?” 

“It doesn’t exactly have a name, or if it does, the name differs internationally. Officially, it would be the ‘International Task Force of Mythical Beasts, Creatures, and Magic-Users for Protection of Mortals and Humankind’. Here in California we just call it Overwatch, because we watch over humankind.” 

“Why would Amelie want to stop that? People aren’t just evil for no reason.” Maybe that was his naivety at work, but he was decently sure he didn’t have any naivety anymore. “They always have some kind of motivation. Bullishly taking on an entire organization of trained supernatural creatures seems to demand some kind of reason or purpose. Most people are too lazy to do something like that on a whim.” 

“We didn’t accept Amelie when she applied fifteen years ago, and I think she considers herself snubbed because we took her husband instead.” Liao grimaced. 

“Well, if I end up becoming the Reaper, at least I don’t have a personal vendetta against you.” A slight shrug. “Is she mortal? Amelie, I mean.” 

“She’s a harpy. A raven, if I’m not mistaken. Her husband was also a harpy, although he carried the genes much less strongly.” 

“That means…?” 

“He couldn’t fly, and didn’t have bird talons. Essentially, he was a human with lighter bones and a couple of feathers. He was discriminated against because he had a harpy parent, but also shunned by harpies because he wasn’t ‘harpy’ enough. Gerard had a… Difficult life. I can’t imagine why the two of them got married, they were very different in personality, ideology, and appearance.” 

“Love can make you forget things like that.” Gabriel muttered. Liao blinked at him, surprised.

“Gabriel, did you  _ meet… someone?”  _

“What? Oh, no. I was just… Ana and Reinhardt. She was a witch. He was a half-giant. He was loud and rambunctious, she was patient and calm. They were… Really different, but it was obvious that they loved one another. A lot.” 

Liao fixed him with a stare, and he ducked his head, guilty. 

_ I wasn’t thinking about Jack, I swear. It just reminded me of Ana and Reinhardt.  _

_ Nobody mentioned Jack, Gabriel.  _

_ Shut up.  _

“Well… If you say so.” Liao conceded. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Stay here. Officer Zhao will keep you safe.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“If I know you and Jack, you haven’t been fed properly in almost a week. I’m going to get you some food.” 

“Thanks, Liao.” Gabriel said weakly. He was so hungry he probably could’ve eaten the squirrel Jack had tried to give him when they first met. Officer Zhao’s sandwich had helped curb his stomach from eating itself, but he needed at least five burgers to be satisfied. “Don’t go to McDonald’s, I hate their chicken nuggets.” 

She paused from where she was about to go out the doorway. “What about Wendy’s?” 

“Is there one near here?” 

“No,” Officer Zhao provided helpfully.

“Burger King?” Gabriel suggested. 

“I think I have a gift card in my purse. What do you want?”

“At least two whoppers. Two Cokes. And their chicken nuggets are good, so get some of those.” Gabriel’s brow furrowed. “Some fries…” 

“I’m going to Taco Bell.” Liao said decisively, shutting the cell door and heading down the hallway.

“That’s not authentic Mexican food,  _ chica!”  _ Gabriel hollered after her. “Don’t you dare!” 

“Nobody cares it’s not authentic, Gabriel, get over it!” She yelled back.

“ _ Hijo de puta!”  _

There wasn’t a reply, so he huffily slumped in his seat. 

“I’ll make sure she gets food from Burger King,” Officer Zhao said lightly. “I’ll be back soon.” 

Gabriel sighed gently and slumped in his seat. He’d get some food, some rest, and some friends. He’d get to be in the city and do  _ normal  _ things. He’d ask Liao if they could see a movie or something, because it looked like he wasn’t about to get shunted to jail for murder. 

But, God couldn’t let him have a break. 

A soft fluttering sound alerted him, and he looked up to see  _ Jamison.  _

“Oh, God.” Gabriel couldn’t think of anything else to say. The pixie hovered proudly in the air, his hummingbird insect wings beating tirelessly. 

“Oi, cunt!” He piped. “Glad to see you’re not dead!” 

“What the hell are you  _ doing  _ here!?” Gabriel demanded, shooting an anxious look at the hallway Officer Zhao and Liao had trod down. 

“Oh, you’ll see! So, McCree and Hanzo and I noticed that these bunch of cunts stole ya, right? And we figured, ‘oh no, can’t let this bloke go to prison’, right?” Jamison declared proudly. Gabriel had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly where this was going, and he was  _ not  _ a fan of it. 

“Jamison-”

“No, no, shut up, shut up. This is the good part. We showed up here, an’ in about five seconds, McCree and Hanzo are gonna bust in here and break you out!” 

“Jamison, this-” 

The pixie ignored him, singsonging the countdown.

“Five!” 

“Jamison-” 

“Four!” 

“I don’t need-”

“Three!” 

“Jamison!”

“Two!” 

“ _ JAMISON!”  _

“One!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no


	13. Bad Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat attempts to break Gabriel out, Mei breaks Hanzo's spine, Hanzo enlists Gabriel's help for a snack, and the gang head off to the nearest Burger King.

_ “ONE!”  _

Gabriel looked up like he’d been shot, but nothing happened. The pixie fluttered there proudly, a smile glued to his face.

Silence ticked on gradually, and Gabriel cleared his throat.

“Uhh…” 

“They were supposed to break in!” Jamison complained noisily. “I told those cunts, on the count of three, they’d storm in and break stuff!” 

“You did it on the count of five.” Gabriel corrected.

“Oh, wot? Didn’t I could  _ three, two, one?”  _

“No, you said  _ five four three two one  _ and ignored me when I told you to stop.” 

“Oh.” His tiny wings seemed to droop. “I guess I have to go get them and tell them to try again. Maybe I wasn’t loud enough…” 

“No, you were loud enough.” Gabriel said hastily. “And I don’t  _ need  _ to be rescued-” 

“Jamison!” The strict, almost husky voice rang down the cell block, and Gabriel was incredibly glad that he was alone. He imagined some poor kid who’d been hauled out for spraypanting suddenly seeing a Japanese vampire, a six inch tall pixie, and a black man with his coat drenched in dried blood. He didn’t think he’d ever sleep again if he was that kid. 

“I’m in here! I found him!” Jamison piped. He fluttered through the bars, gesturing towards Gabriel’s cell with his tiny faery hands. “He’s all bloody!” 

The patter of feet that’d been coming down the hallway came to a quick halt. “His own blood?” 

“Smells like harpy blood!” Jamison replied happily. “It’s all old and dried, too!” 

Hanzo skidded to a halt in front of the cell, taking in Gabriel with a critical eye. “Harpy blood?” He questioned. 

“That’s a long story. Listen, Hanzo, I don’t need to be rescued.” Inwardly, he added,  _ or at the very least, I don’t need to be rescued before Liao comes back with my burgers, fries, and chicken nuggets.  _ “I’m fine here.” 

“Don’t need rescuing? You have been imprisoned.” When Gabriel didn’t reply, he tentatively added, “Jailed. You have been captured by mortal authorities.” 

“What? Zhao and Liao aren’t mortal.” Gabriel frowned.

Hanzo’s brow furrowed. “Are they harpies?” 

“No, they’re not harpies. They’re Overwatch.” 

“Overw…” He trailed off. “What would you need Overwatch’s protection for?” 

“It’s a long story, Hanzo. The point is, I appreciate the rescue effort, but you guys need to go  _ right now,  _ as in, before Liao and Zhao see you and they try to kill you because they mistook you for cultists.” 

Hanzo looked completely bewildered by that, and Jamison landed on his shoulder, looking similarly stumped.

“Cultists?” Jamison was the one to tentatively pipe up. “You mean the blokes in robes who chant weird stuff?” 

“It’s a long story, like I said.” Gabriel shook his head slightly. “The point is: go  _ home.  _ I don’t need you.” It might’ve been a little insensitive, but still.

“We are not leaving without you,” Hanzo corrected. “Ana will be pleased to know that you are alive and unharmed.” 

“And  _ I’m  _ not going  _ with  _ you.” Gabriel argued. “You’ve seen me here, so you can go back and tell Ana I’m fine.” 

There was a tense silence.

“Is this about Genji?” Hanzo’s voice grew a couple shades more tender. “He won’t do that again, that much I can assure you. I can feel the oncoming threat, however distantly, and read the fear in your pose. You will be safer with us, even with Genji.” 

“It’s not about Genji, it’s about how  _ I  _ want to be able to make my own decisio-” 

A massive roar interrupted him. It was a swallowed, deep-in-the-throat and muddy sound, like a bear or something. Gabriel momentarily entertained the idea that a bear had broken in the prison, but when he peered past the bars, what stood across the hall was most definitely not a bear. 

The creature was nearly ten feet in height, with thick, tree-trunk legs and arms that came nearly down to its knees. It was completely covered in a thick, shaggy layer of white hair. Tiny jet-black eyes no bigger than a marble glittered in its skull, almost overtaken by slitted nostrils and its massive brow. Teeth jutted from its lower jaw, several inches in length. It had short, nubbly fingers tipped with long, blunt claws, and had a slightly distended belly, like that of a gorilla or a chimp. The way it walked was definitely animal; short, toddering steps with its hind legs that suggested that it was a cross between bipedal and quadruped. Its lip curled, and it scented the air. 

“Holy sh-” Gabriel started to say.

The monster took off at a speed that should’ve been impossible for a creature of its size, feet slamming shockingly quickly against the concrete as it barreled directly at Hanzo. The vampire attempted a dodge, but the monster flung out one of its arms and caught him around the middle. It carried him, like a linebacker with a football. Before Hanzo could escape, it had reached the wall at the end of the hallway and had slammed him bodily into it. 

Gabriel watched in complete and total horror as it pummeled the vampire against the wall. The damn wall was made out of brick, and it was starting to  _ break.  _ Cracks spiderwebbed across the wall, bricks denting inward. Hanzo had only managed to squeeze out a single scream of pain before the breath was repeatedly slammed from his lungs. Jet-black blood escaped his mouth in spurts and trickles, whether from him biting the inside of his mouth or internal injury, and his dark eyes were blown wide with shock and agony. Gabriel wanted to tear his gaze away, but he found himself unable to keep from watching as Hanzo was beat to death. The monster must’ve hit him against the wall a dozen times or more until it was satisfied and stopped. 

It dropped the fallen vampire brokenly on the ground. Hanzo didn’t move an inch, and from this distance, Gabriel wasn’t even sure he was alive anymore. He didn’t think anything could stand up against being pulverized like that, vampire or not. 

The white-furred beast shuffled back down the hallway at a torturously slow speed. When it passed by Gabriel’s cell, it glanced back at him, dark eyes assessing the room. It snuffled quietly and turned its head, moving back on its way.

Jamison, who had been the only one quick enough to react to the beast, came out from his hiding spot on the ceiling of Gabriel’s cell. He landed on Gabriel’s shoulder, stunned into silence exactly the way Gabriel had been.

“What the hell  _ was  _ that thing?” Gabriel asked Jamison shakily. “That… That was  _ brutal.”  _

“Chinese yeti.” Jamison assessed, sounding similarly rattled. “They’re really rare. God, imagine the chances of runnin’ into one of those…” 

“That… I think that was Officer Zhao.” Gabriel’s hands were shaking, and he found it difficult to breathe. He ran his hand down his face and sat down, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. “This is exactly what I was scared of. Is he…?” 

“Dead? Dunno. I’m gonna go check.” Jamison’s wings fluttered and he darted through the bars. Gabriel watched anxiously as he prodded the vampire. A moment later, the pixie fluttered back, hands slick with the vampire’s dark blood. 

“Not dead yet,” He appraised. “I think his spine’s broken, though. He’s not gonna be walking out of here anytime soon. He’s probably gonna die.” 

“Wh- Is there anything we can do?” Gabriel asked, alarmed.

“Bleed for him, I guess. I never liked that cunt very much. Too uptight.” 

“Bleed for him?” 

“Feed him, y’know.” 

“Can you unlock the cell?” Gabriel asked, uncertain.  _ Come on, Gabe. You’re a police officer. You save people’s lives at the risk of your own, this isn’t any different.  _ “Uh, if I get bit, do I turn into a vampire, too?” 

“I don’t think so?” Jamison’s wings fluttered. “I’ll get the cell for ya, though.”

The little pixie hovered around the lock, reaching in one of his tiny little arms into the keyhole and jimmying his shoulder around. 

“Do you know what you’re doing?” 

“Uh, kinda? I got it. This ain’t the first door I’ve picked with me arm.” There was a soft, metallic rattle. “Think that did it. Try it now.” 

Jamison darted out of the way and Gabriel hesitantly tried the knob. 

The door swung open, and Gabriel hurried over to Hanzo.

He looked even worse up close. Chips of brick, paint, plaster, and dust painted his body, but didn’t manage to hide the gruesome injuries he had received at Officer Zhao’s hands. Hanzo’s ribs and spine were most definitely broken- No doubt in his mind. 

He forced himself to think clinically, to ignore the gibbering squall of hysteria that attempted to claw into his head. Hanzo’s injuries were most definitely mortal, or if not, he was damn well close to dying. If he’d been a human, he would’ve died on the second or third hit. 

Gabriel felt his throat for a pulse, then realized he was a vampire and probably didn’t have one anyway. He held his fingers out in front of the man’s nose, checking if he was still breathing. Faint wisps of air brushed against the pad of his index and middle. So, still alive, however precariously. 

Gabriel peeled back one of his eyelids, to check if he was conscious. The brown eye had rolled back in its socket, but upon being opened, hazily focused on Gabriel. 

Hanzo twitched, hands starting to shake. He attempted to rise, but Gabriel’s hand went to an uninjured portion of his shoulder and kept him still.

“Hey. Don’t move.” One of the first things they’d been taught in emergency situations was to not move someone who was critically injured, lest they make it worse. This rang true especially with spinal injuries, which Hanzo most definitely had after his brutal beating. “You’re going to make it worse. Jamison says if I let you drink my blood it’ll help. That true?” 

Hanzo’s eyelid closed, brow scrunching. Agony showed very obviously in every line of his face, and Gabriel almost worried he had been in too much pain to be able to comprehend the question. 

“H-  _ hai.”  _

“Jamison, I don’t speak Japanese, the hell does that mean?” Gabriel glanced at the pixie, who was hovering over his shoulder.

“He said yeah.” 

“Alright. Hanzo, can you swallow?” 

A mumble in Japanese he didn’t understand. 

Jamison offered a translation before Gabriel could even ask. “He said yeah, but it hurts.” 

“Probably the broken ribs. Jamison, find me something sharp. Hanzo’s not going to be able to bite me like this.” 

“Alright! Hanzo, try not t’die while I’m gone, I’ll be riiiiight back.” Jamison gave them a friendly wave then zipped down the hallway.

Gabriel sat in front of Hanzo, sitting crosslegged like a kindergardener. He didn’t exactly know what comfort to offer- he had never been particularly very close- so he gingerly held the vampire’s hand and stroked the back of his palm with his thumb. 

“I warned you.” Gabriel muttered. He still felt bad about the injury- it wasn’t his fault, but he should’ve been able to do  _ something-  _ but didn’t know what to say or do to make it any better. “I didn’t want this.” 

Jamison arrived a moment later, carrying a Swiss army knife that was as long as one of his legs. He fluttered over to Gabriel and dropped it in his waiting palm proudly. “Here you goooo!” He trilled.

“Great, thanks.” What would bleed the most with the least damage? He wasn’t looking to slash his wrists, but he also wasn’t looking to prick his finger. He gingerly cut a line down the meat of his thumb, hissing softly in pain as he did so. 

Hanzo seemed to get the slightest bit better as soon as Gabriel’s blood was in his nostrils. Both eyes fluttered open, and his lips parted expectantly. 

Gabriel tentatively brought his bleeding palm to Hanzo, awkwardly arranging it in Hanzo’s mouth. The vampire’s tongue bathed the wound, lips sealed around his skin. To put the situation kindly, it felt really friggin’ gross. Exactly the way it would feel to have a near-death guy suckle a self-inflicted wound and lick it with his slimy, cold-ass vampire tongue. 

After a few moments, Gabriel’s blood began to clot and the injury was persuaded to stop providing the vampire with nourishment. Hanzo whimpered softly when Gabriel pulled his hand away, attempting to chase the retreating injury with his mouth. His eyes fluttered open to look at Gabriel accusingly, surprised and betrayed.

“It’s not bleeding anymore. Calm down, I’ll make a new one.” 

Some of the patterning of bruises down Hanzo’s back had started to recede, leaving pale skin in its wake. Gabriel’s eyes moved from his back to his face.

“Let me have your throat,” Hanzo rasped, soft and pleading. “Please. I will be gentle.” 

“Not a chance.” Gabriel frowned. 

“I am  _ dying,  _ Reyes-san.” Hanzo insisted, voice fragile as glass and just as sharp. “You aren’t feeding me fast enough.” 

“God dammit, don’t fucking guilt trip me.” Gabriel cursed, hesitating for a moment. He looked to Jamison- as if he would help!- but the pixie just shrugged. 

He looked back at Hanzo. “If I say stop, you fucking stop, got it? I don’t care how much it hurts, I’m not going to die because you can’t fucking control yourself.” 

“I can’t drink any more than a pint or two, Reyes-san, you won’t bleed out.” Hanzo assured. “Please. This hurts… A lot more than I am letting on.” 

No more hesitation. Gabriel awkwardly lifted a knee over the fallen vampire, awkwardly straddling him even though he was lying mostly on his side. 

He lifted up his chin hesitantly, trying to force down bodily instincts to protect his throat. He was shaking like a leaf in a tornado, anticipation and fear mingling together almost inseparably. 

The bite came swiftly and unexpectedly. Gabriel cried out in fear, attempting to jerk away from Hanzo, but the teeth in his throat held fast and Hanzo’s arms clamped down on his wrist with impossible strength. Gabriel cursed up an extended and unnecessarily profane storm, struggling frantically on sheer instinct. 

After he had a moment, Gabriel started to feel… Fuzzy. He didn’t know if it was vampire poison or the sensation of getting his blood drawn out of his body. His neck had gone numb, and he couldn’t tell if the vampire even had his mouth around Gabriel’s throat or not. He was panting, loudly and openly, his arms starting to shake from the strain of holding himself up. Vampire venom or blood loss? His head was starting to swim and his vision was starting to go. 

Then it started to feel…

Good. 

Gabriel sighed, eyelids fluttering shut. Warmth pooled down his neck, into his brain and down his spine to his belly and extremities. It was the heavy, lazy heat of love and companionship. His mind brought to him the memories of sitting and eating next to Jack, laying next to him when he was a griffin, and he tried to push them away. 

It wasn’t lust, at least, not that he could tell. It was something warmer, sweeter, more innocent. 

He felt it when Hanzo’s fangs unhooked from his throat- A slight prickle from the side of his neck, and the slow bleeding of the warmth he had enjoyed. He whined softly, wanting desperately to chase the feeling and have it back, but it had slowly vanished with the vampire’s teeth. His forehead slumped against Hanzo’s shoulder miserably, and his chest heaved with massive, rattling breaths. 

“Gabriel.” Hanzo’s voice was back to its smooth, self-confident purr. “Are you alright?” 

“I think he’s crying!” Jamison piped, unhelpful as usual. “Did it hurt that bad?” 

“No.” Gabriel muttered through grit teeth, forcing his locked limbs to move. He climbed off Hanzo, unsteadily getting to his feet. He dusted off his jacket, simply because he wanted to look far more composed than he actually was. A surge of dizziness spiked through him, and he shook his head, trying to ignore how nauseated he was and how spots had momentarily blurred his vision.

Hanzo saw through him almost instantly. “The first feeding is intense.” He said, quiet and sympathetic. “I tried to make it gentler for you.” 

“I can handle pain.” Gabriel said dismissively, adjusting the cuff of his hoodie.

“I didn’t mean pain.” Hanzo replied quietly. Before he could continue, Gabriel handily cut him off.

“Are you still injured?” 

“I believe not.” Hanzo said, voice a shade more neutral. He twisted slightly, shrugging his shoulders, and climbed to his feet. He looked… Healthy. There was a youthful tinge to his face, confidence and grace in his body language, and vigor quite obviously flowed through him. He dusted off his gi and stretched his limbs. “Yes. I am fine.” 

“Alright. I’m gonna take you to Liao and explain that you’re my friends, then you’re going to go home and tell Ana I’m okay.” Gabriel decided. “Come on.” 

“Hey, who is Liao, anyway?” Jamison piped, fluttering up towards Gabriel and taking a seat on his shoulder. 

“My captain, and one of my friends.” Gabriel said simply. “She’s a part of Overwatch.” 

“Was she the Chinese yeti?” Hanzo asked, lip drawn back. “I will be ready this time if she attempts to attack me.” 

“That was Officer Zhao. I’m not really sure what Liao is.” Gabriel shrugged. “But I can work this out, I know I can. Liao will listen to me.” 

He gestured for Hanzo to follow him. He initially took off at a jog, but dizziness made the world spin and he had to stop, putting one hand on the wall for support.

Hanzo hummed, as if he had anticipated this. “You lost a twelfth of all the blood in your body. Vigorous activity is off the table. Take a moment.” 

“Fuck that,” Gabriel panted. “Where’s Jesse?”

“We left him on guard duty.” Hanzo explained.

“If he was on guard duty, how the hell did Zhao get in?” Gabriel asked, voice low. It took Hanzo a moment, but when he realized, he paled. 

“Jamison, stay with Gabriel. I have to-” 

“Go help? What are  _ you  _ going to do? Get your ass beat again and die this time?” Gabriel cut through him angrily. “You’re outclassed. Let me handle this.” 

“I am a  _ vampire  _ and a  _ Shimada.  _ A braindead beast won’t best me for a second time.” Hanzo bared his fangs. 

“If it weren’t for me, there wouldn’t  _ be  _ a second time, Hanzo.” He pushed himself off the wall and stumbled forward, shaking his head. “So shut up and help me outside.” 

Hanzo muttered something in Japanese, then slung one of Gabriel’s arms around his shoulder. He assisted Gabriel all the way outside, and they were met with Liao and Officer Zhao, thankfully in human form. 

“Gabriel!” Liao rushed forward, taking his face in her hands. He groaned internally but looked up to meet her eyes. 

“Hi.” Gabriel said, forcing himself to smile.

“What the hell happened? Who is that?” Liao glanced at Hanzo, wary. 

“That’s the vampire!” Officer Zhao piped. 

“And you’re the one who broke my spine.” Hanzo’s nose wrinkled. “The yeti.” 

“It’s nice you’re okay, but how… I hurt you very bad, you should not be able to walk...” Confusion colored Zhao’s face, and she glanced at Gabriel. Her eyes lighted on the side of his neck, where twin holes punctured his throat, and the officer blinked, startled. 

Liao must’ve had a similar thought process, because she grabbed Gabriel by the ear and pulled harshly. 

“Ow!” Gabriel protested.

“You let yourself get bitten by a VAMPIRE!?” Liao barked. 

“I was saving his life!” Gabriel defended himself.

“You could’ve been turned!” 

“Hanzo was dying, it’s not my fault! I had to make a choice!” 

Liao’s furious gaze snapped from him to Hanzo, and Gabriel did not feel a single shred of guilt now that her fury was aimed at the poor vampire. “Did you turn him?!” 

“I do not invite outsiders into the Shimada clan, nor the vampire bloodline.” He replied dryly. “He is as mortal as he was yesterday.” 

Liao looked like she wanted to continue with an argument, but she inhaled sharply and shook her head. “Who are you? What do you want with Gabriel?” 

“He doesn’t belong in mortal jail!” Jamison piped up from behind Gabriel. The pixie had made a nice, cozy little hammock in the hood of Gabriel’s jacket. “We’re breaking him out!” 

“This isn’t mortal jail,” Officer Zhao said, bemused. “This is Overwatch business.” 

“I don’t care!” Hanzo interjected. “There was a werewolf standing guard. Where is he!?” 

“I subdued him.” Liao said simply. 

“If you have slain him, there will be  _ nothing  _ to keep you from my rage,” Hanzo hissed. His eyes smoldered a brighter, redder color, and Gabriel realized that maybe he didn’t want to be near the juiced up vampire right now. “Whether you are mortal, beast, or god-” 

“He’s not dead,” Officer Zhao said timidly. She pointed to the bushes nearby, where the werewolf had been unceremoniously laid. His fur was sticking up in everywhich direction and his tail thumped against the green fronds of the flora he’d been placed on. He had also been trussed up like a hog. Paws bound, muzzle bound, lying on his side. His intelligent brown eyes burned with shame. He wriggled and managed to produce a slight whimpering noise.

“Cut him free  _ immediately!”  _ Hanzo demanded. 

“How did you  _ do  _ that, Liao?” Gabriel asked, slightly impressed. A massive dog  _ without  _ human intelligence would be hard enough to subdue and bind, but while Jesse wasn’t the brightest bulb in the basket he was still  _ smart.  _

“Ask him yourself. A girl never tells.” She replied, humor written on her face. She moved over to Jesse and reached for her pocket. “Huh? I had a knife in here.” 

“Swiss Army?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes, have you seen-” 

Gabriel tossed the knife Jamison had given him to her. She caught it, brow furrowed. “How did you get this?” 

“The pixie riding on my back gave it to me. I thought you were slick enough to not be pick-pocketed, Liao.” Gabriel gave her a teasing smile.

“Shut up. I’m saving the muzzle for last.” She moved over to Jesse, whose tail wagged tentatively at her approach. She sawed through the bindings on his hind paws, and Jesse arched his spine and kicked his feet experimentally. Just stretching, rather than trying to escape. She got through his front legs, and finally his muzzle.

Jesse rose, tail wagging. As a symbol of no hard feelings, he gave Liao’s hand a tentative lick. She wiped it off on him under the guise of petting. 

Gabriel unhooked himself from Hanzo’s support, pretty sure he could walk by himself now. 

“I have a proposal.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “Hanzo wants me to go with him. You want me to go with Overwatch. I want to go home.” 

Everyone within earshot was attentively listening. 

“How many people could we fit in the squad car, Officer Zhao?” 

“Five?” She replied tentatively. “Maybe six, if they’re small.” 

“Could we fit two women, two men, a werewolf, and a pixie?” 

“Gabriel, what are you planning?” Liao sounded nervous. 

“Zhao, could we fit that many?” 

“I think so.” She nodded slightly. 

“Perfect.” Gabriel clasped his hands together. “Everyone in the car.” 

“Gabriel, I swear to God I am not moving a damn foot until you tell me what you’re doing.” Liao barked. 

Gabriel, instead of dignifying her with a response, headed for the patrol car. Officer Zhao hurried to grab her spot as the driver. 

“Shotgun!” Gabriel called back at Liao playfully. 

“Like hell you are! Sit in the back!” She jogged after him, closely followed by a bewildered Hanzo and a happy Jesse. 

Liao ended up taking shotgun, Zhao ended up driving, Gabriel ended up sitting on the right behind Liao, and Hanzo ended up on the left behind Officer Zhao. Jesse clambered into the middle, laying his head in Hanzo’s lap, hind legs and tail sprawled over Gabriel’s thighs. Junkrat had tentatively vacated himself from Gabriel’s hood, worried about getting crushed. He now sat on Gabriel’s shoulder, holding onto his ear in lieu of any kind of seatbelt. 

“Now that we’re all together, let’s take a nice, family trip to Burger King.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fun trivia for you about chapter names- here's a list of beta titles that didn't end up becoming the titles of the fic. 
> 
> Chapter one was originally titled "Mythical AU". I thought it was going to be a oneshot. Ha. Ha ha. Ha.
> 
> Chapter two, three, four, five, and six reflect my impatience to get to the main plot. Gabriel was originally intended to be kidnapped by Angela in chapter two, but I threw in a lot more cutesy filler and dream sequences. "Bye Bye Birdy", "Birds", "Probably Birds for Real This Time", "PLEASE LET THERE ACTUALLY BE BIRDS PLEASE" and "THERE ARE ACTUALLY BIRDS IN THIS ONE!!" are the beta chapter titles for 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 respectively. 
> 
> Seven was originally called "Aviarice", as a pun on "Aviary" and "Avarice". Cut because pun chapter titles are lame.
> 
> Eight was titled "Intervention". Ana and Liao both do some intervening, and it intervenes the plot. 
> 
> Nine kept its beta title. 
> 
> Ten was originally titled "Angela Explains It All" and had a fuckton more exposition from Angela. Cut for Liao to say in Chapter 12.
> 
> Eleven was titled "Stinger". I don't recall why.
> 
> Twelve and thirteen kept their original beta names. 
> 
> Fun fact, the current beta title for Chapter 14 is "Snoop Hoggy Hog". I think you can guess who's making their first appearance.


	14. Flight, Fight, Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang goes to Burger King, Gabriel acquires a new power, Roadhog is there, and Gabriel gets kidnapped again.

“You’re kidding.” Liao deadpanned.

“No, I’m not.” Gabriel said, deeply pleased with himself. “I lost a pint of blood, a lot of my sanity, and I’m hungry enough to start eating the dog if he looks at me funny.” 

Jesse shifted closer to Hanzo. 

“I’m not paying for everyone.” Liao sunk back into her seat with a huff, resigning herself to this trip. 

“Jack lost my wallet in the forest.” Gabriel protested. 

“I can pay,” Officer Zhao said tentatively. 

“I require nothing. I am full.” Hanzo shifted in his seat, scratching Jesse behind the ears. His big tail thumped against Gabriel’s legs. “Gabriel proved to suffice as a meal.” 

“I’m going to eat an entire fry!” Jamison giggled delightedly, pulling on Gabriel’s earlobe. 

_ Why is this my life now.  _

“Zhao, let’s go.” Gabriel interrupted. The officer nodded quietly and backed out of her parking spot.

The drive down the road was almost surreal. He’d never been to Santa Barbara- he’d barely left LA- but there was a surprising feeling of… Familiarity. Even whilst being jammed in the back of a patrol car, sandwiched between a werewolf and a vampire. But the buildings, the bustle of people plodding down the road, the hustle and bustle of life- It was like Gabriel had met an old friend. He breathed deep and slow.

“Like home, isn’t it?” Liao said quietly. “Enough to make you homesick.” 

“I’ve been homesick all week.” Gabriel forced a smile. “In fact, homesickness is just about the only thing motivating me. If I wasn’t homesick, I would’ve given up and died several days ago.” 

“You would be safe with Ana and the rest of us.” Hanzo grumbled. 

“Or he’d be in the clutches of the Reaper,” Liao shot back. “Officer Zhao almost killed you. The Reaper’s cult has people far more vicious and far more dangerous than Officer Zhao, and this proves that you’re not good enough to protect Gabriel.” 

“I would like to see you fare any better,” Hanzo sneered. 

“I would fare better. Whatever experience or skill you think you have on me, you don’t. Vampire or not, an arrogant man is an arrogant man, and that’s exactly what you are. Overconfidence and overestimation of your own ability is going to get you killed- Being a vampire does  _ not  _ make you indestructible, nor does it mean you command any more respect than the rest of us.” Liao’s voice was harsh, and even though the words weren’t directed at him, Gabriel felt bad. 

Hanzo was mute and Liao exhaled slowly. “Mei. Be honest with me. Was I like that when you first met me?” 

She nodded, flipping on her turn signal. 

“Are you a vampire, Liao?” Gabriel asked, wondering if she had inadvertently revealed her identity. 

“I’m not.” Liao brushed her hair out of her face. 

“Are you ever going to tell me?” 

“Maybe.” 

Silence reigned in the car for a while, broken only by the occasional snuffle from Jesse and Jamison’s tiny yawns. Liao and Officer Zhao started idly chatting in what Gabriel assumed was Chinese, but it really could’ve been any foreign language. 

“Hanzo…” Gabriel prompted, attempting to be casual.

“Yes?” The vampire was gingerly stroking Jesse’s back, his eyes closed.

“About you and Jesse…” 

“Tread carefully.” Hanzo’s eyes drew open just a fraction, enough to see white through his lashes. 

“Are you…?” 

“Together? Yes. Make a joke about bestiality and I will throw you out the window.” 

“I wasn’t going to.” Gabriel objected. “I’m just making small talk.” 

Hanzo snorted, miffed. “Are you and Liao together?” 

“What? No.  _ No.  _ We’re friends. One of my only friends.” 

“Have you ever thought about her in that fashion?” 

“Well…” He pictured that a moment. Kissing Liao. Holding her hand. Touching her. Being intimate. He shook his head, hard, trying to scatter the mental images. Not with her. Hanzo seemed to be receptive enough to pick up on his discomfort, even though he hadn’t offered a real answer. 

“Ana told me you did not have a wife or a husband. Is that so?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Have you dated?” 

“Why is my sexual history coming into question here?” Gabriel replied hotly. 

“I didn’t ask about your sexual history. I asked if you’ve dated anyone.” 

“Not really, no. I mean… I dated when I was a teenager, probably closer to tweens than teens. But it wasn’t for me.” 

“Interesting.” 

“Interesting?” 

“Have you considered asexuality?” 

“What?” 

“Asexuality. The lack of sexual attraction to anyone. Have you considered you’re asexual?” Hanzo’s eyes studied him, sympathetic and severe at the same time. 

“I don’t like thinking about my feelings, Hanzo.” Gabriel’s tone was warning. “Particularly my relationships with people.” 

“It is something to consider. When I bit you, what did you f-” 

“Lay off him, mate.” Jamison was the one to come to his defense, wings fluttering in agitation. “The drongo says he ain’t gonna think about it, so he ain’t.” 

It was rather touching, hearing the crabby little pixie take his side. Gabriel shot him a grateful look, and Jamison looked away, wings drooping. Gabriel wondered if it was personal for the pixie. He hadn’t actually really considered that something so tiny and so…  _ noisy  _ could get together with someone. Or even have a sexuality. Jamison seemed like a little kid, just louder, curse-ier, and much more Australian. He felt the urge to ask about Jamison’s romantic and sexual preferences, but he had better control of himself than that. He looked away and awkwardly placed his hands in his lap.

“Why don’t all of you introduce yourselves?” Liao broke away from her enduring conversation with Zhao. “I need to know what I’m dealing with.” 

“I’ll go first. Even though I know all of you.” Gabriel volunteered. “Gabriel Reyes. 43. Cop. Probably ex-cop.” 

“Jamison Fawkes!” Jamison piped from Gabriel’s shoulder. “Twenty-seven! Australian! And I’m a  _ pixie,  _ not a  _ fairy!”  _

“Hanzo Shimada. One hundred and eight. Vampire.” He swiped his tongue across his teeth self-consciously. “Jesse can’t speak right now, due to him being… Well. His name is Jesse McCree. American. Thirty seven. Obviously, a werewolf.” 

“Captain Liao. Overwatch.” Liao said simply.

“How about your age? What you are?” Hanzo prompted, voice sharp and suspicious. 

“No.” She responded primly. Hanzo made a half-growl, half-hiss that was oddly catlike. 

“Mei-Ling Zhao!” Officer Zhao supplied, nervously cutting off the tensions. “I’m a yeti. I’m eighty two in a couple months!” 

Even Hanzo looked surprised by that. Gabriel had to keep Junkrat from falling off his shoulder in surprise.

“You’re very… Young.” Gabriel offered tentatively. 

“She’s a yeti. Like most supernatural creatures, she gets an extended lifespan.” Liao replied promptly. 

“That’s not fair,” Gabriel argued.

“Gabriel, nothing in life is fair. You know that.” Liao tossed back.

Mei pulled into the Burger King parking lot. “Okay, everyone! Who’s going in to get the food?”  

“We can’t bring Jamison or Jesse.” Hanzo assessed. “It would raise suspicion. As would the blood Gabriel is covered in, and the wound on his hand and throat. I will-” 

“All I have to do is take the hoodie off. The T-shirt’s still good,” Gabriel objected. 

“Gabriel, I’m going to put this nicely.” Liao drummed her fingers against the glovebox. “You smell bad. I am not taking you anywhere in public right now. Hanzo and I will get the food for you.” 

“Me?” Hanzo sounded scandalized. 

“Yes, you.” Annoyance shaded Liao’s voice. “I’m taking someone else with me to order. Gabriel can’t go, Jesse can’t go, and Jamison can’t go, which leaves you and Mei. I’m not leaving Gabriel alone with you.” 

“He won’t be  _ alone,  _ he’ll be with us.” 

“I don’t want to leave him without an official Overwatch member protecting him. Officer Zhao is more than capable of defending Gabriel without us, and definitely a better choice than you.” 

Hanzo muttered something darkly under his breath, and Jesse gave his hand a sympathetic lick. That softened the storm gathering on the vampire’s brow, because he got out of the patrol car and didn’t even slam the door.

“Liao, don’t be a dick.” Gabriel advised. It earned a snort, and she unbuckled her seatbelt. 

“He’s a bully, Gabriel. And I don’t find myself liking bullies.” She opened the door and closed it with a quiet clank. 

“So.” Gabriel twiddled his thumbs. 

There was an awkward silence.

“Anyone seen any good movies?”

“Oh, uh, I did! You know Hal-Fred Glitchbot?”

“The crazy director who thinks he’s a robot?” Gabriel checked.

“Calling him crazy is a little mean.” Mei frowned. “But, yes, him! I marathoned his movies with my girlfriend last week.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Gabriel asked, and immediately regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Why the hell couldn’t they manage to talk about anything that  _ wasn’t  _ romance? 

“Yes! Her name is-” 

“I wanna hear about the movie!” Jamison interrupted, wings fluttering. “Ana won’t let me watch movies ‘cos she’s scared they’ll put ideas into my head or somethin’ stupid like that.” 

“I saw  _ They Came From Beyond The Moon, The Six Gun Killer-”  _

“Oh, I always meant to see  _ They Came From Beyond The Moon,  _ but I never got around to it.” Gabriel hummed. “Is it as cheesy as they made it sound?” 

“Yes, but I enjoyed it.” Mei covered her mouth with her hands, chubby cheeks crinkling with her smile. “My girlfriend did too. I think her favorite part was when I got scared and made her cuddle me during  _ The Six Gun Killer.”  _

“Sounds like a horror flick,” Jamison said excitedly, the tips of his wings starting to lightly flutter. “Was there blood? Was there guts? Was there explosions?” With each word he had hovered an inch higher off of Gabriel’s shoulder, and showed no sign of stopping. “Was there-  _ ouch!”  _ And there was the inevitable head to ceiling collison. 

Gabriel pinched Jamison’s ankle between thumb and forefinger, gingerly pulling him down from the ceiling and back onto his shoulder. “It was one of those other cheesy things, right? Murder mystery, extra campy?”

Officer Zhao laughed. “Oh, I think so… Some of the violent scenes get very violent.” With a glance towards Jamison, she added, “Lots of blood.” 

“Then we gotta go see it, right now!” Jamison’s wings flittered boldly. 

“The hell we are!” Gabriel shot an accusatory look at Mei, that should convey his message of  _ don’t encourage him.  _ “We are waiting in this parking lot for Hanzo and Liao, because  _ I  _ haven’t eaten anything more than a sandwich, a handful of berries, a packet of uncooked hotdogs, and a bag of marshmallows in almost three days.” 

“You know, after this we should probably regroup somewhere else,” Mei suggested. “The station is in bad shape, now that I…”

“Tried to bodyslam Hanzo  _ through  _ a brick wall?” Gabriel provided.

Mei nodded, abashed. “Yes, umm, that. I have an apartment we could hang out at. But I don’t want to force you to go anywhere.”

“The way Liao’s talking, it looks like I get to go home with a new roommate.” 

“Hanzo’s not gonna give up on you,” Jamison flicked his ear irately. “If you don’t wanna come back to Ana’s with him, cunt’s prolly gonna string you up on a stick an’ carry you back anyway. That’d be funny, actually!” 

“We’re not doing that.” Gabriel prodded the pixie’s belly with his finger. “I’m going to talk to Hanzo. Rationally. Like an adult.” 

“That’s boring,” Jamison complained. 

“And I don’t care. Get off my shoulder.”

“Ah, wh- What? Why?” Jamison’s wings fluttered and he hovered near Jesse. At least he was obedient. Sometimes. 

Gabriel stripped off his jacket, wadding up the bloodsoaked and dirty fabric. He tossed it on the floor of the car, and nodded to Mei. “Do you have any deodorant? Women’s will do.” 

“Oh!” She dug around in a small furred purse, and Gabriel wondered for a bizarre moment if it was some of her yeti fur, which came off as strangely gross. “Here!” 

It was, in fact, women’s deodorant, but any deodorant was better than smelling like you’d freshly come out of a shithole forest. He probably looked like a scary hobo, unshaven and unwashed and… Well. He nearly smothered himself in “Powder Fresh” to make up for his appearance.

“I had better come too,” Mei fidgeted slightly. “Jamison, you and Jesse stay in the car.” 

“Ol’ dog-brain over there can’t open the door, and neither can I,” He protested. “I’ll stay real quiet hidden in Gabe’s hood, c’moooon.” 

A flicker of irritation rose, and Gabriel had to fight to not knock the little bastard off his shoulder. “Let’s go, Mei. Jamison, two things.” 

“Whassat?” 

Gabriel opened the car door, gingerly picking Jamison off his shoulder and setting him down on the carseat. “One, keep a close eye on Jesse. Two, don’t call me Gabe.”

He slammed the door, ignoring the muffled, high-pitched Australian protests from behind the glass. He turned to Mei, taking a quick, positive breath. 

“Into Burger King we go,” He tried to put on his best smile. Mei was unconvinced. 

“Are you sure you would not like to sit and wait for-”

“I’m sure. Let’s go.” 

The Burger King was mostly empty. There was a mostly teenage staff at the register and behind the counter, attempting to produce all the food for Liao and Hanzo. The pair was standing a pointedly large distance apart and not looking at the other, focusing their attention in opposite directions.

Gabriel and Mei didn’t go unnoticed for any longer than a second, because Liao looked up to see them. She closed her eyes, exhaling deeply through her nose, and Gabriel realized disobeying her was probably going to get him a verbal ass-kicking. 

“Hi, Liao.” 

“Hi,  _ Gabe.”  _ She offered him a smile that was all teeth. “What are you doing out of the car?” 

“I need to talk to Hanzo.” 

“This couldn’t wait until we were in the car?” Liao asked patiently. 

“No.” Gabriel moved his gaze to the vampire, who was looking back at him with mild uncertainty. Hanzo had most definitely been rattled by today. Gabriel could sympathize, though. Who hadn’t been rattled by today? Probably some normal bastards. Probably the pimply nerd manning the register. 

Gabriel was the king of lodging his foot firmly in his mouth, as he was about to realize.

The door clanged open, and in it stood a massive  _ behemoth  _ of a man unlike any Gabriel had ever seen before.

Winston was a massive man, and the biggest  _ normal  _ human Gabriel had seen before today. He was all muscle and shoulders and chest, with tiny legs. Reinhardt had been the biggest person Gabriel had ever seen, evenly proportioned but approaching ludicrous height levels. He had been well muscled, broad shouldered, barrel chested, with thick legs that could probably pop a man’s head clean off.

This guy was unlike any of them in physique.

Whilst he was massive- Probably seven feet or more- he was also, well,  _ massive.  _ His gigantic gut couldn’t be contained by the shirt he was wearing, and his fly had been completely unzipped to make room for the taut fat of his gigantic belly. He couldn’t have weighed any less than five hundred pounds, but he wasn’t just fat, he was also  _ huge  _ in stature and  _ muscular.  _ He had no idea how you could retain that much belly but also have biceps bulging with muscle. 

He was wearing a blue shirt with a cartoon pig on it, and khaki shorts that showed off only a couple inches of leg before they were replaced with boots. He had a mask firmly affixed to his face, rather gasmask-like in design. Blank lenses kept his face from being well and truly seen. 

He was giving off a weird…  _ Feeling.  _ Gabriel struggled to figure out what it was, trying to discover if it was dread or fear or just random heebie jeebies. 

Then it clicked. Just like flipping on a lightswitch. 

A power. Some kind of  _ power.  _

Everyone radiated out an aura. The frightened, pimply cashier attempting to square up for the massive man’s order was dull and grey, with a hint of strange sweetness. Hanzo, fiery and blue, bloody and composed but taut as a bowstring. Mei, frosty and cold, an uncontrollable monster teeming just beneath the surface. Liao, cold and dark, something greasy lurking where even Gabriel could not detect it. The new man, with an unyielding, unending strength, sand and dust grimed into his very soul.

_ Are these souls? Is that what these are? What’s going on? What is…  _

He started to shake, nearly hyperventilating. He stumbled back a couple steps, clasping a hand over his mouth, breathing hitched. It flared up from everyone, every _ where,  _ it was… Overwhelming.

“Gabriel? Gabriel!” Liao snapped her fingers in his face. “Gabriel, what’s the matter?”

“I don’t think I’m mortal.” Gabriel muttered, his eyelids fluttering frantically. This was  _ not normal. Definitely not.  _

“Of course you are,” Hanzo folded his arms. “I tasted you. You are most definitely mortal. You are a human.” 

“I’m feeling… Things.”

“Things?” Mei asked, concerned. 

“All of you. Just-” He slapped his palm against his face, fingers digging into his skin. His hand slid down his jaw, nails drawing visible tracks. “God…” 

“Sir, are you alright?” The teen called meekly from his register. 

“He’s fine!” Hanzo barked. “What are you experiencing, Reyes-san?”

“He’s Sighting.”

The big man had lumbered over without anyone noticing, causing all four of them to nearly startle out of their skin. 

“I’m  _ what?”  _

“Sighting.”

“What does that mean?” Liao looked equally confused, which was nice. “Who  _ are  _ yo-”

“Not important. He’s a mortal. Been around lots of magic. He’s Sighting.” 

“That still does  _ not  _ tell us what it is,” Hanzo spat. 

“It  _ means  _ he’s growing. He’s adapting.” 

“Adapting?” Liao asked. “Adapting to what?”

“To magic. Humans exposed to massive quantities of magic in short periods of time gain an… Adeptness, at picking out magical creatures. Long term exposure does the same thing. He can tell what you are now. And what other creatures are, too.” 

“Who are you, the exposition fairy?” Gabriel barked, though he sounded a lot braver than he felt.

“Roadhog. Mercenary for hire. Your kidnapper.” 

“My wh-” 

The massive man backhanded Liao  _ hard,  _ sending her flying into the marble countertop. The teenager manning the register screamed in fright and scrambled away. Hanzo leapt at Roadhog, fangs bared, but he was swatted aside as if he were nothing at all. 

Mei’s transformation was nothing short of brutal. Gabriel would later compare it to a yeti bursting out of Mei’s skin, complete with horrible ripping, snapping noises. Her fingers grew claws, her body contorted violently, and it only took a matter of seconds for her to be fully grown and covered in hair. She screamed at Roadhog, throwing a punch that would’ve split a normal human’s skull in half. 

Roadhog brought out a wicked-looking metal hook that’d been on his belt to parry the blow, hooking Mei’s wrist and jerking sharply to throw her off balance. The yeti remained on her feet, but she swayed, other arm flying out to help her keep her balance. Roadhog’s heel slammed into the yeti’s knee, making her screech in pain and fall. 

“‘F you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay down.” He mumbled. He turned his gaze back to Gabriel. It occurred to Gabriel that he was completely helpless, and all the superpowerful magical creatures who were supposed to be protecting him had been completely thrashed by a couple of hits. He took a skittish step back, knowing he’d have a few precious steps before he’d hit the soda dispenser and be cornered. All he had to defend himself were his wits and his hands, and his new arbitrary power wouldn’t do a damned thing to help in this fight. 

Mei got up again, lunging for Roadhog. The two of them slammed into the counter, just barely avoiding careening into Liao. They wrestled for a moment, Mei screaming and snapping her jaws in Roadhog’s face as she attempted to rip open his throat. Roadhog had managed to wedge and arm between himself and Mei’s jaws, keeping her at bay. His unoccupied arm was reaching for the hook. 

Hanzo got unsteadily to his feet, looking bleary and dazed. His temple had been cut on the side of a table that he’d knocked over upon colliding with it. He blinked rapidly, shook his head, and lunged at Roadhog, pinning down the arm that had been reaching for the hook. 

Roadhog snarled in annoyance. “The  _ fuck  _ did I say? Stay DOWN!” 

He thrust his knee upward into Mei’s belly hard enough to make her falter, and with considerable effort managed to throw the yeti off. With her gone, his other arm was free to punch the vampire square in the face. Gabriel  _ heard  _ that goddamn nose break, and cringed at Hanzo’s screech of pain. The vampire had his hands cradling his face, none too quietly cursing in Japanese. 

Roadhog rounded on Mei, brandishing the hook viciously. “If you can’t fucking learn to stay in your place, then I’ll fucking put you there.” 

The yeti screeched, attempting to get up. Roadhog slashed the hook and dodged swings. Although he was the one backing up, it was painfully obvious to anyone watching that the fucking killer yeti was  _ losing.  _ Mei was bleeding like a bad gambler and had barely managed to do anything other than mark up Roadhog’s shoulders. 

Roadhog threw his hook with pinpoint accuracy, hooking it around Mei’s leg and pulling sharply. The yeti, unable to keep balance, fell on her back. Gabriel prayed she’d get back up, but it didn’t look like it.

“Bitch,” Roadhog muttered quietly. He stomped on her knee, sharp and accurate, and Mei spasmed in pain, a horrible scream forced from her throat. Gabriel dared to peek, and he was pretty sure knees were  _ not  _ supposed to be at that angle. Holy shit, Mei wasn’t gonna be getting up again. 

Hanzo looked to be down for the count too, off in his own corner tending to his face and head wound. Liao, who’d gotten smacked into solid marble, looked like she’d fallen unconscious since the beginning of the fight. 

“I didn’t want to have to do that.” Roadhog told Gabriel, voice soft and serious. 

“Like hell you didn’t!” Gabriel cried, eyes wide with concern. “Get the hell away from me!” 

“I’ve been paid good money to get you into the right hands.” He grunted, approaching slowly.  _ Goddammit, he’s playing with me!  _

 

“Back off,” Gabriel attempted to sound threatening, but it fell flat. God, he’d just watched this bastard rip into three good people, three _strong,_ supernatural people, without even flinching. How was he supposed to muster up bravado, false or not? He was doing his best to not piss himself in fear. 

“We need a Reaper, and you’re due for the job.” Roadhog grunted, ignoring Gabriel’s protests. “I’m happy to help. Don’t mind the pay, either.” 

“Like hell  _ I’m  _ gonna be the Reaper!” Gabriel tried not to betray his plan. He was going to make a run for it. How fast could this guy be? 

_ How fast can you be, Gabe? Honest to God. You’re starving, down a pint of blood.  _ He swore he could see spots flickering across his vision too, but he had no better plan. Better to get captured on his feet instead of giving up like a little bitch. 

“The Reaper’s host isn’t a title you give up without dying.” Roadhog grunted. “I’d prefer not to kill you, ‘cos then we have to find a new one.” 

He approached a step too close and Gabriel lunged forward, making a break for the doors. Roadhog let out a muted snarl of rage, spinning on heel. Fingertips brushed the fabric of Gabriel’s T-shirt, but didn’t snag a hold. Gabriel was clear, all the way to the doors. He may not be able to fight, but he could run and hide and-

He came to a sudden, complete halt, and simultaneously felt like someone had punched him in the chest. He attempted to wheeze for air, whilst looking down to find a band of solid steel encircling his chest, holding him still. 

Roadhog jerked his hook and Gabriel was forcefully yanked along after him. He collided with the fat of Roadhog’s belly, which was far less squishy than he had hoped for. A massive arm clamped around his back, holding him close and still. Roadhog, in a few sharp, deft movements, bound Gabriel’s hands with the chain on his hook. He was then unceremoniously tossed over Roadhog’s shoulder, left hand pinning him in place. 

“‘F it makes you feel any better, none of them are gonna die.” Roadhog grunted. “None of ‘em are hurt bad enough.” 

“It doesn’t,” Gabriel snarled back acidly. 

“Business is business.” 

“They were my friends!” Gabriel spat back, outraged. 

Roadhog made no comment on that. He pushed open the glass Burger King doors, plodding out into the parking lot. “We’re not going far. That harpy promised she’d be watching.” 

“Harpy? What harpy?” Gabriel’s heart sank. 

“Angel, or something like that. Pretentious.” Roadhog shook his head ever so slightly. “She has money. That’s all I care about.” 

Angela hadn’t  _ died?  _ A delicate woman like her had been shot at point-blank range in the abdomen and didn’t  _ die?  _ He should’ve shot her more than once. Should’ve shot her in the head. Should’ve, should’ve, should’ve. God dammit. 

“ _ OI!”  _

Oh no. 

Gabriel attempted to glance over his shoulder, but there was no need. Roadhog spun on heel and nearly dropped Gabriel.

“Jamison?” Roadhog asked, disbelief coloring his tone. 

“Hog!” The pixie slammed into the giant man’s chest, and Gabriel wondered if it was supposed to be an attack or a friendly gesture. He got his answer when Jamison proved to be hugging Roadhog instead of kicking him. “What are you doin’ here, you mean old cunt?” 

“Business.” A tiny glance at Gabriel.

“Business? Whatcha want with this tosser, ay?” Jamison fluttered off of Roadhog’s chest, scrutinizing Gabriel’s face. The cop wisely chose to not say anything. 

“He’s going to be the Reaper.” Roadhog grunted, adjusting Gabriel’s position on his shoulder. 

“Wot?” Jamison’s wings seemed to droop in flight. “But he can’t be.” 

“Why not?” 

“He’s my friend.” The pixie admitted quietly. 

There was a heartbeat of silence.

“God dammit.” Roadhog muttered. “God dammit, God dammit, God dammit. Jamison, come with me.” 

Roadhog lumbered down the parking lot, and Gabriel got a look at his ride. It was a massive motorcycle ( to fit his massive frame ), with a sidecar. Gabriel was unceremoniously dumped in the sidecar.

“That’s my seat!” Jamison complained. 

“Share it.” Roadhog grunted. 

“Am I still being kidnapped?” Gabriel asked. 

“No.” Roadhog replied, starting his bike.

“I feel like I’m being kidnapped.” 

“You’re not.” 

“Then where are we going?” Gabriel asked.

“Somewhere safer. No more questions.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I like to listen to music when writing. This entire fic has been written listening to the Fallout 3 Galaxy News Radio soundtrack, specifically this video: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkEHf5ZbrzU
> 
> I've listened to it in its entirety about ten times when writing. Neat, right?
> 
> ( Also, an opinion poll. Should I add these little cutesy fun facts at the end of every new chapter? )


	15. Training Montage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel learns how to use his Sight, goes back to Burger King, and finally acquires his long besought nuggets.

Jamison decided to happily flutter into Gabriel’s lap, snuggling down a little bit to get cozy. 

“You got big thighs!” Jamison looked up at him cheerfully. Damn asshole with his big eyes and shark smile.

“I know.” Gabriel muttered. He had gotten compliments about them before. Liao had mentioned it a long time ago- In her own words, “ _ Damn, Gabe, you’ve got some killer thighs”.  _ He wasn’t  _ embarrassed  _ about them. It was just… Something he didn’t like to focus on. 

Gabriel cast those thoughts aside with a slight shake of his head. Roadhog had just mounted the motorcycle, and it looked like they were about to drive off to God knew where. All he could do was hope that Jamison’s friend wasn’t planning on anything… Nefarious.

The bike roared and tore out of the parking lot, and Gabriel mourned the tumultuousness of his life and the loss of his food. At least Liao hadn’t paid for it yet. 

They were most definitely breaking the speed limit by forty or fifty miles an hour, and Gabriel was pretty sure it was the most terrifying driving experience he’d had in his life. He thought his face would peel off and they’d wreck and all die horrifically, but they didn’t. Roadhog drove them, straight and true, to a shitty little shack far on the outskirts of the city. 

Roadhog manhandled Gabriel once again, encouraging him to get out by lifting him out of the sidecar and kicking in the door of the shitty little shack. He was unceremoniously dumped on a crate. In a couple sharp movements, his hands were unbound. He massaged his wrists to attempt to get some feeling back into them, and glanced up at Roadhog. 

“Uhh…” 

“Jamison, you really piss me off sometimes.” Roadhog wasn’t even looking at Gabriel, opting to quietly glare at the pixie beside him. “I’m not going to play bodyguard for him.” 

“I never said you had to, cunt.” Jamison said indignantly. “I didn’t even say that you had to bring him!” 

“How do you know each other?” Gabriel interrupted. Other than  _ Am I about to die or become the Reaper,  _ that was the most important question on his mind.

“Hoggie’s my boyfriend.” Jamison fluttered his tiny lashes and the massive mercenary made a disgusted noise. “Oi! Don’t sound so pissed, I’m a  _ score! _ You’re lucky to have me.” 

“Sure I am.” Roadhog finally looked back at Gabriel. “Do you still feel it? Your Sight.” 

“No,” Gabriel answered honestly. That brief flicker into… Soul-seeing, or whatever the hell it was, had gone sometime during the attack. He hadn’t even noticed it was missing until Roadhog asked. 

“One of your most valuable tools, now.” Roadhog cracked his knuckles idly. “I’m gonna teach you to use it whenever you want. Then I’m going to get the hell out of here.” 

“Why?” Gabriel asked hesitantly.

“Because, as annoying and stupid and impulsive as he is, I…” 

“You l _ ooooove  _ me,” Jamison sing-songed, baring sharp teeth in a grin.

“That, yes. I’m doing him a favor.” Roadhog coughed slightly. “And I remember being in your boat. Mortal. Terrified. Would’ve loved to have someone teach me.” 

“You’re  _ human?”  _ Gabriel asked before he could help himself. Way to go, idiot.

“Yeah.” Roadhog didn’t seem to take offense to that. Nice. “I’m gonna say this once. Your Sight’ll won’t always be nice. Some things you see are gonna be bad.” He paused a moment. Gabriel didn’t want to ask for clarification. “Fortunately, you start forgetting after a while.”

“How do I  _ use  _ it, though.” Gabriel felt that was a far more relevant question. 

Roadhog grunted. “Focus. Concentrate. You’ve felt magic. Remember what it felt like.” 

Ana came to mind. Then Jack. Then Liao. 

Liao. 

The slippery, greasy thing he’d felt teeming underneath the surface. He needed to talk to her again. Ask her about it. Because whatever it was… 

“Ah!” 

“Got it?” Roadhog asked, amused. “Keep in control.” 

Roadhog gave off the same glimmers from before, with minor details sprinkled here and there. It had been overwhelmed by the scent of dirt and sand, by the rawness and viciousness that hid years of blood and sweat, but underneath was the greyness and the slight sweetness that Gabriel realized must be a feature of humankind. He turned to Jamison. Sand and dirt intermingled, leaves and fire. The scent of soot and merry mischief, and teeming far beneath that, fragments of flower petals. 

He could feel other things radiating from outside. They were vague blurs, only capable of giving him a description without a picture. One of the beings had a cold, clear burn of the open sky in winter. Another held stone and dirt and grass, bark and berries and craggy horns like tree branches. 

“Nmh.” Gabriel closed his eyes. 

“With experience, you’ll be able to tell what everyone around you is. That coldness is a bird.” Roadhog grunted. 

“I haven’t heard you blab this much in years, Hog!” Jamison caroled in delight. “Why don’t’cha talk this much with me?” 

“Shut up, Jamison.” 

“I never thought you could be a teacher, Hog. Well, ‘course, you teach  _ me  _ all kinds of stuff…” A coy giggle and Gabriel was abruptly snapped out of his Sight.

“Augh! God dammit!” The transition from feeling stuff to not feeling stuff was jarring. Like he’d lost his sight or hearing or touch or smell. Gabriel clawed at his face, gritting his teeth and shaking his head sharply, trying to recover.

“Jamison, fuck off.” Roadhog barked. “You’re a distraction.” 

“Spoilsport,” Jamison said, sour. “‘F your magic’s so bad it gets broke when I make jokes, then your magic sucks.”

“I said, fuck off.” He pushed Gabriel’s shoulder slightly. “Try again.” 

He went back and focused on what he’d felt with Liao. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and opened them again. 

“Got it,” Gabriel said softly. 

“Good.” Roadhog grunted. 

“How do I turn it off?” Gabriel asked. 

“Ground yourself with something human. I use my hook.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” 

“Focus on something human. Concentrate.” Roadhog instructed. “Imagine your senses dulling.” 

Gabriel tried it. What should he focus on? He didn’t have an object other than his clothes. Guess he had to use that. He clutched the hem of his T-shirt and tried to imagine being closed off from any and all magicks. Needless to say, it didn’t work.

“Does it have to be a physical object?” Gabriel asked, trying to keep the dismay and frustration out of his voice. 

“No. Would advise it, though.” Roadhog gave a slight nod. “Try if you want.” 

He closed his eyes, sucking in a quiet breath. A bag of marshmallows. Sweetness, fluffiness, stale. Jack’s smile. Berries, tangy and sweet. Humanness. Warmth. 

His Sight closed. 

Gabriel opened his eyes slowly,letting out a quiet sigh. He still had the vague sensation that something was missing, and he wondered uncomfortably if it was his Sight or Jack that he was missing so dearly. 

“Got a handle on it?” Roadhog pushed his back slightly, urging him outside. “Good. Practice opening it and closing it faster.”

“How did you learn about this?” He sluggishly pulled up his Sight again, to the memory of Liao’s slippery demon beneath the surface. 

“Had a lot of wizard friends.” Roadhog grunted. Gabriel stumbled out of the shack and immediately felt every single bit of wildlife within a thirty foot radius. It was… Rather intense, but he grit his teeth and bore it. Sorting them into groups helped a bit- These are birds, those are bunnies, those are bugs, so on. “Didn’t know they were wizards. But I got the Sight. Figured it out fast.” 

“That doesn’t sound pleasant.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

His Sight fluttered closed. He reopened it. Now that he had a mild grasp of what it was doing, it was like exercising a cramped hand. Opening and closing fingers slowly, gradually getting easier. Gabriel practiced for about fifteen minutes, until he could open and close it in a couple seconds. 

“Stay where you are.” Roadhog grunted. He padded up behind Gabriel, suddenly closing his arms around the cop in a crushing embrace. Gabriel tried to draw breath to shout in surprise, but it was squeezed forcibly out of his lungs. “Open your Sight.” 

_ Learning under stress?  _ Gabriel had time to distantly wonder before his ribs suddenly stabbed with a fierce, fiery pain.  _ Can’t breathe!  _

“Listen! If you don’t open your fucking Sight, I’m going to crush you.” Roadhog snarled. Gabriel could feel his ribs bending with the force, and he couldn’t breathe in the slightest. His fuzzy, panicked mind scrambled to remember. Liao, Liao had been instrumental in this. His Sight bloomed before him, pinpointing the fast-beating seed-scramble that could only be a mouse, and the dustiness behind him that could only be Roadhog.

“Ggh,” Gabriel attempted to choke out, slapping his frantically fluttering arms against the mercenary’s belly. Roadhog loosened his grip somewhat, and Gabriel took a beautiful, sweet lungful of air and started coughing and retching. Roadhog wisely decided to drop him before Gabriel managed to throw up all over his arms. 

Fortunately for Gabriel, he didn’t have anything but Mei’s sandwich to pathetically choke up. 

“Good, you did it.” 

“You almost killed me!” Gabriel protested, wishing he hadn’t just puked up the only food he’d gotten all day. His throat burned from the acidity of his own vomit. God, was he choking up pure stomach acid?

“You did it.” Roadhog replied simply. 

“Does that mean we’re done?” Gabriel asked, getting up and wiping a thin spool of vomit-y spit off his chin.

“Yeah. Come on.” 

“Where are we going?” 

“Back.” 

“To Burger King?” 

A nod corroborated that. 

“Wait, you took me all the way out here to teach me something for thirty minutes?” Gabriel protested.

“Yep. If you don’t like it, I could always give you to Angela.” Roadhog growled irately. 

“Nevermind.” Gabriel winced.

“JAMISON!” Roadhog called. “We’re going back.” 

“Okay!” The pixie flew out of the tiny shack happily and landed on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Hoggie, can you buy me a fry?” 

“No.” 

“What!? It’s just a fry, you stingy bastard!” Jamison objected. “You get to have all the other fries!” 

“I’m not going to pay for them.” Roadhog replied patiently. “Gonna take ‘em.” 

Jamison brightened up. “Al- _ right!”  _

“That’s illegal,” Gabriel clarified for him, in a stunning moment of naivety assuming that Roadhog wasn’t intending on taking whatever he wanted. 

“So?” Roadhog glanced back at him. “You gonna stop me?” 

“... No.” Gabriel looked away.

“Get in the car. Your friends should be waking up by the time we get there.” 

“Thanks for not killin’ ‘em by the way.” Jamison chimed.

Gabriel snorted and climbed into the sidecar. He picked Jamison off his shoulder and placed the pixie back in his lap, just in case. Didn’t want him to fall off and splatter like a bug on someone else’s windshield. 

It was a short ( and thankfully nonfatal ) drive. Gabriel clambered out of the sidecar, lightly feeling his face just in case the rushing wind had ripped it off, but was satisfied with the skin that met him.

Gabriel was surprised to see a lack of police officers, ambulances- Any kind of emergency response, really. They’d been gone for nearly an hour, and not one of the staff had bothered to even call the police? Even if not the staff, why hadn’t well-meaning spectator or customer who had witnessed Gabriel’s kidnapping, or the rampaging yeti on Roadhog battle called? As a police officer in LA, they got thousands of calls ranging from a paranoid woman rambling about her neighbors stealing her garbage to an older, addled gentleman calling because a store seemed empty. Out of sheer experience, Gabriel didn’t believe that some misguided, well-meaning person hadn’t called 911.

“I know what you’re thinking. Use your Sight.” Roadhog grunted, lumbering up to the doors. 

“What?” 

“There’s a reason the cops aren’t here.” 

“Why?” 

“I told you, use your Sight.” Roadhog said, irate. “What do you think I helped you with it for?”

“Okay.” He opted to use Roadhog as a trigger this time. He felt the sand sifting through his fingers, the dust in his lungs, smelled the coppery stench of blood and the spice of sweat. He breathed out deeply and became aware.

“I don’t feel anything.” Gabriel glanced at Roadhog, annoyed.

“Yes, you do.” Roadhog replied, impatience edging on his tone. “Think.” 

Gabriel opened the door of the Burger King, allowing Roadhog in first. Gabriel followed after slowly, letting his Sight wash over him for the moment. 

Hanzo was in one corner, miserably curled up in a ball, cradling his face. He got new impressions of the vampire. The fiery flame and cold blue remained, as did the sensation of blood that Gabriel identified as  _ vampiric.  _ Underneath, though, was glimmers of something that struck Gabriel as distinctly prideful.

The strange thing about the Sight was it wasn’t  _ seeing,  _ or  _ feeling,  _ or  _ smelling,  _ or  _ touching,  _ or  _ tasting,  _ or even that strange sixth sense that he could call ‘magic’. It was a blend of all of them, plus associating objects and sensations in his mind that he would never in his wildest dreams have thought to connect. 

“Hanzo?” Gabriel cleared his throat. The vampire looked up, expression angry, bitter, and… Oh, Christ. The whites of Hanzo’s eyes were red, shiny with unfallen tears. 

“Reyes-san. I thought…” His expression changed to something softer, something more innocent. “What happened?” 

“It’s a long story. How are the others?” 

“Alive.” Hanzo replied simply, looking down at his feet. Gabriel figured that was probably the best they were gonna get out of him, and he headed towards the counter.

Liao was still out cold. She was still breathing, deep and peaceful. Gabriel looked at her blank face and wondered if there’d be permanent damage. 

“You figured it yet?” Roadhog grunted from the door. Hanzo startled at his voice, rising to his feet with his fists balled in a split second. 

“Hanzo. Sit in one of the booths. I’ll…” Gabriel’s vision danced with black spots, and he slammed his eyes shut. God. “I need to check on Liao. Don’t worry about Roadhog. He’s… Not really a friend, but he won’t kill us.” 

“Not unless I get paid.” Roadhog muttered. He shuffled over to the counter and clambered over it, heading deeper into the inner machinations of Burger King. Gabriel was momentarily tempted to demand that Roadhog grab him some food, too, but he ignored his squalling stomach in favor of kneeling next to Liao.

He felt for her pulse. Still there, and quite normal.

_ Of course her pulse is still there, she’s breathing, dumbass.  _ Gabriel shook his head in disgust. “Hanzo, watch Liao for me. I’m going to check on Mei.”

The vampire, who had ignored his order to sit at one of the booths, moved over obediently. 

He knelt beside Liao, his eyes clouded with grief. His entire demeanor was somber, unbecoming of such a prideful man. The vampire had to be taking the repeated losses and rebukes hard. 

Gabriel hesitated a moment, then gave him a little pat on the shoulder. Hanzo ignored him. 

Gabriel moved past the chilly vampire and over to where Mei lay. She was no longer in her yeti form. She was still chubby-cheeked, pudgy bellied, and garbed her police uniform ( that definitely had to be magic clothing, there was no way it could’ve been that intact after she became a yeti. ) From the looks of things, she was just starting to stir. Brown eyes fluttered open, moving up to meet Gabriel’s.

“Did we win?” Mei sat up slowly. 

“No.” Gabriel told her, offering out his hand. She took it, and he helped her up.

“If we lost, then how are you here?” 

“It’s a long story.” Gabriel sighed. “Let’s get everyone together and get to your apartment, okay?” 

“Okay. How is everyone?” 

“Liao’s alive. Hanzo’s alive. I’m alive. We’re all alive.” Gabriel sighed. “That’s starting to sound like a blessing.” 

Mei gave him a sympathetic look. 

Roadhog lumbered out to the front of the register. His massive hands carried a tray, adorned with piles of wrapped burgers, chicken nuggets, and fries. Gabriel expected Roadhog to walk right past him and sit down, but Roadhog stopped in front of him and offered it out. 

“You’re hungry.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” His stomach had practically caved in on itself.

“Eat.” 

Gabriel took the tray and dashed for the nearest table, slamming his ass down and frantically ripping at the paper encircling one of the Whoppers. No time to stop and savor, though god  _ damn  _ if the sauce and the meat and the tomato and the bread wasn’t the best thing he’d ever tasted- and he carved his way through an entire burger in less than fifteen seconds. It was good, hot food,  _ filling  _ food. He was going to eat an entire week’s calories in a day and he did not give even the semblance of a fuck. 

Jamison fluttered nearby, watching in fascination as Gabriel scarfed down another Whopper in under half a minute. 

“Mei, he will need fluids after losing so much of his blood. Water is a good choice-” 

“Coke or death!” Gabriel declared, pausing to swallow. “Jamison, get me some ketchup.” 

“I want one of your fries!” Jamison piped. Gabriel carefully selected an incredibly long, crispy fry, and laid it on the table. Jamison whooped in delight and fluttered off.

In the meantime, Gabriel managed to get through a third Whopper, starting to slow down. Mei came by with a large Coke, which he accepted with a gracious “thank-you” and by slurping it straight out of the cup, no straw required. God, what was the last drink he’d had? Mei had given him water in the patrol car ride to the prison, but during the two days with Jack, he’d accidentally drunk shitty stream water that’d been caught in his beard, and that was about it. 

Jamison returned with a few tubs of ketchup, snatching up his fry and shredding at it like a tiny, sharp-toothed piranha. This proved fascinating enough that Gabriel stopped shoveling food in his mouth to watch. 

When he managed to tear his eyes away, Gabriel dunked his chicken nuggets in the offered ketchup containers. 

Mei and Hanzo drifted over. Hanzo laid Liao in the booth seat opposite from Gabriel, then pulled up a chair for himself and Mei. 

“Is the large man no longer our enemy?” Hanzo directed the question at Gabriel, who swallowed the mouthful of hot breaded chicken he’d crammed in his throat. 

“Naw! Hog’s my boyfriend!” Jamison piped, wiping grease off his face with the edge of a napkin. “He taught this cunt to use his powers, isn’t that neat?” 

“Powers? The Sight that he mentioned?” 

“Yeah. Turns out humans are better at magic than you thought.” Gabriel grunted, licking his lips to clear them of condiments. 

“Are you a wizard?” Hanzo asked, intrigued. “Your blood did not taste of magic, but it could be possible that you are an  _ incredibly  _ weak sorcerer.”

“He’s human.” Roadhog lumbered over. He had poked up his mask some, exposing his chin and some of his mouth to sip at a soda. He had fat, scarred lips, and fat on his chin that matched the fat on his body. “What’s with that one?” He inclined his head to Liao.

“Unconscious.” Gabriel clarified. “Hurt. I don’t know how badly, I’d need her to wake up.” 

Roadhog grunted. He dug into the pockets of his shorts with one hand, holding the cup he was sipping at with the other. He eventually produced a small canister, painted yellow. He flapped a hand at Mei and Hanzo to indicate they should move aside.

He flipped open the top on the canister. Some vaporous yellow gas shot out, clouding around Liao’s face. Roadhog closed the canister and stuffed it back into his pocket, leaning back and stepping away.

Liao’s eyes shot open, and she sat bolt upright, cursing loudly. “Gabriel-” 

“I’m alive.” Gabriel informed her, taking a bite out of a chicken nugget. 

“Thank God…” She shook her head slightly. “How long was I out? Where  _ am…”  _

“An hour and a half.” Hanzo informed her. “You are in the Burger King.” 

“Did you beat him?” 

Roadhog snorted. “As if they could.” 

“I’m…Confused.” Liao’s brows crinkled. “Are you on our side or not?” 

“I’m on my own side.” Roadhog grunted. “Now I know he’s safely in your hands. I’m leaving.” 

He lumbered for the door, then paused for a moment.

“Jamison, are you coming with me?” 

“Oh, Hog…” Jamison sighed. “You do care.” 

“Shut up. Are you coming or not?” 

“Naw. You know how to call me?” Jamison looked up from his fry. 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay! I’ll see you later, Hog.” Jamison giggled happily. “Don’t become bacon, okay?” 

“I’ll stay out of trouble. You do the same.” 

Roadhog walked out of the Burger King, to his bike, and drove off without another word.

There was a momentary silence, awkwardly broken by Gabriel slurping at the near-empty Coke. 

“I miss him.” Jamison sighed. 

“Okay, hold on. I am  _ seriously  _ out of the loop. Start from the beginning, after I was knocked out.” Liao still looked  _ incredibly  _ confused. “ _ What  _ happened?” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your fun fact of the chapter: 
> 
> Jack, in the original concept art of this fic, was intended to be a harpy. Mei was human. Roadhog was a werepig. Pharah and Tracer, although they have been mentioned and not seen, were also intended to be harpies, and Tracer was going to be one of the villains.
> 
> Jack was ALSO intended to be not just a villain, but the main villain, and the host of the Reaper. Gabriel was going to be forced to be his bride / mate to pass on his lineage, but I thought that was a little... Extreme. 
> 
> In another beta concept- the original concept- Gabriel was dumped on Jack's doorstep and not Ana's. There was no plot beyond that concept. 
> 
> Current beta titles: Chapter 16: Picking up the Pieces, Chapter 17: The Climax
> 
> Bonus fun fact for you- Chapter 17 is completed, but I haven't even started Chapter 16. Can you tell I'm hyped for what's coming up? : P


	16. Picking Up the Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel stays at Mei's house for a while and cleans himself up. He says goodbye to Hanzo, Jesse, and Jamison, and heads back to his apartment with Liao- But everything is not well.

Liao got a thorough ( if somewhat fragmented ) explanation of the events. Gabriel mostly told the story, with Jamison taking over some sections and building on it. Hanzo and Mei chimed in on the fight, but listened raptly to Gabriel’s explanation of his training. 

“- Then he left. But you were all there for that.” Gabriel finished, setting his hands in his lap. During some of the conversation, Mei and Liao had taken chicken nuggets or bits of fries. “Oh, dammit. I forgot to ask him.” 

“Ask him what?” Liao nibbled on the edge of a fry. 

“He said there was a reason the police didn’t get involved after you fought with him, but I didn't a straight answer." Gabriel frowned. "Do you know why?” 

“I don’t know.” Liao shook her head. “Is it related to your Sight thing?” 

“It might be. He mentioned it.” He glanced back at her, and opened his mouth to ask about the dark…  _ greasy _ presence he had Seen beneath her human guise. He realized perhaps this was a conversation best kept for private, and he shut his mouth before he said anything stupid. 

_ What are you, Liao?  _

“I have never heard of a Sight.” Hanzo said plainly. 

“You don’t know human mortals, Hanzo.” Liao cut in. His brows creased and he looked down. He looked upset, and Gabriel felt a sort of… Righteous anger on his behalf. 

Mei came in to defend him first. “None of us knew what it was, Liao. You didn’t know either.” 

“I’ve at least  _ heard  _ of humans having Sight.” Liao frowned. “I didn’t suggest it because I thought it took years of being exposed to supernatural creatures.” 

“It has been.” Gabriel shifted slightly in his seat. Everyone looked at him for an explanation, and he cleared his throat. “We’ve known each other for a decade, Liao. And I know you’re not the only transhuman in the LAPD.” 

“I guess… I guess that makes sense.” Liao said, reluctantly. “At any rate, this makes you tougher. More survivable. That’s good. You’ll know where magical threats are before we ever will.” 

“Jus’ so we’re clear, I knew ‘bout it before any of you figured it out.” Jamison shoved the remainder of his fry in his mouth, licking his lips indulgently. “Hoggie uses his Sight all the time. I’m not sure he ever turns it off. I woulda known if you’d let me come in with you guys.” 

“You know very well why we couldn’t let you go with us.” Hanzo said, frowning slightly. He picked up a chicken nugget delicately between thumb and forefinger, and tenderly brought it to his mouth. Gabriel sensed this would be interesting to watch and turned his attention to the vampire.

An interesting thing about the vampires, both Hanzo and Genji. They didn’t have overt, obvious fangs. Their canines were maybe just the slightest bit larger than normal, but easily excusable as human. 

Gabriel watched in fascination as his canines appeared to grow, sliding out further from wherever they’d been hiding in his jaw. He bit down on the chicken nugget and a moment later his teeth appeared to pulsate. Gabriel realized he was sucking moisture out of the meat, and it shrank considerably until Hanzo was satisfied. The vampire swiped his tongue over his teeth, delicately set down the withered nugget, and slid his canines back into his jaw. 

Hanzo realized Gabriel had been watching, and they awkwardly held a gaze for a couple seconds before Hanzo broke it.

“Not bloody enough.” Hanzo muttered, wiping his mouth. “You tasted better.” 

Gabriel realized he had intended it to be a compliment, but it sure as hell didn’t sound like it. “Thanks?” 

“Vampire.” Liao was squeezing her way out of the booth. “I’m not sure if you figured it out yet, but your nose is broken, and it’ll need to be re-set.” 

Hanzo’s expression changed slightly- From a shade of surprise to grim realization and stoniness. “It’s Hanzo.” 

“Right. Hanzo.” Liao nodded idly, but turned her attention to Gabriel a moment later. “Gabriel, are you almost done?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Gabriel was actually full to the point of queasiness, but god  _ damn  _ did it feel good to be full. Even before he’d been taken to Ana’s he wasn’t used to a full meal. He gathered up trash, tossed it in the garbage, and kept some stray food that’d remained. Jesse’d like something, right? Could dogs eat chicken nuggets? 

He refilled his Coke. 

“We’ll re-set your nose when we get to Mei’s apartment.” Liao was saying to Hanzo, who nodded slightly. “We all need some R & R. Today’s been a hard day for all of us. You and Gabriel in particular.” 

“Can say that again,” Gabriel mumbled under his breath. “Jamison, you gonna stay on that table all day?” 

“No,” The pixie chirruped. He launched off the table and fluttered after Gabriel as he was exiting the Burger King. He landed on his familiar spot on Gabriel’s shoulder.

“How did you get out of the car, by the way?” Gabriel asked him.

“Huh?” Jamison had been busy studying the parking lot. 

“You definitely aren’t strong enough to open the car door. How’d you get out?” 

“Jesse and I came up with a way.” Jamison hummed, obviously pleased with himself. “I pulled the handle, and he pushed the door ‘cos it was too heavy for me. Dumb mutt’s good for something after all!” 

“He is not a  _ dumb mutt.”  _ Hanzo barked, sounding distinctly prickly. He marched to the car, opened the door, and slammed it behind himself, obviously in quite the mood.

“He’s got a stick up his ass,” Jamison observed. “Cunt.” 

Gabriel made an idle noise of agreement, but he was worried for the vampire. He may have been crabby, but Hanzo was making an effort. He had gotten seriously hurt defending Gabriel more than once, and since he couldn’t convince Gabriel to go with him back to Ana’s… He must’ve felt like a failure. Gabriel knew just how bitter it was to swallow defeat, especially if you were as arrogant and prideful as someone like Hanzo. 

“Jamison, sit up front with Liao.” 

“But I wanna sit with you,” Jamison whined. 

“I’ll give you a fry.” Gabriel dug around in his leftovers, waving a fry tantalizingly close to the pixie’s face.

“Oh, fine!” Jamison grasped it, attempting to pull it out of Gabriel’s grip. “Give it to me, you bastard, I want it!” 

“You have to stay with Liao.” 

“Whatever!” 

Gabriel let go of the fry, and Jamison flew off with his prize. Gabriel could hear him explaining the change of seating to Liao when he closed the car door behind him. Hanzo had Jesse’s head in his lap, and was tenderly stroking his head. He looked more composed than he had before, which was kind of a relief. 

“You alright?” He asked Hanzo quietly. The vampire started. 

“Yes. I… I’m fine.” 

Gabriel didn’t press him. 

Mei got in the driver’s seat, and Liao took shotgun. This time she was plus one Jamison, who was chomping on the fry Gabriel had given him.

“It’s a quick drive,” Mei assured everyone. 

After the fifteen or so minutes it took to get there, Gabriel was feeling sleepy from the rocking of the car and the fullness of his stomach. When they stopped Liao had to shake him slightly to wake him up. 

The group filed into the apartment building- Mei could afford a nice place, certainly a spacious one, but room was still an issue. She had a single guest bedroom and two couches. Gabriel longed to sleep in a bed after being forced to sleep on Ana’s couch and the forest floor for the past week, but he nobly offered to take one of the couches. Hanzo and Jesse asked for the guest bedroom, since they slept in the same bed some nights anyway. Liao opted to take the other couch. Gabriel suspected it was partially to keep a closer eye on him, but he didn’t mind it that much. 

Gabriel was unanimously commanded to go take a shower, which he did. 

He closed the bathroom door behind him, stripped off his grimy T-shirt, his well-worn jeans, and his boxers. His boots and socks had already been discarded by Mei’s front door. 

He started the shower, testing the heat extensively. He’d be damned if he was forced to take a cold shower now that he had the luxury of a hot one. He snatched up a washcloth, some soap, and dragged the shampoo bottle in, intent on cleaning himself something vigorous. 

Smelly armpits: gone. Unwashed hair: gone. Grimy face: gone. His offensive smell: Hopefully gone. He scrubbed the last of the bubbles out of his hair and double-checked the soles of his feet, then turned the shower off. The heat had been blisteringly hot, but he appreciated the heat. God, he hadn’t felt anything hot in  _ forever.  _ He had no idea how the Amish managed to keep away from technology. 

He did his best to vigorously dry himself, hoping to avoid dripping all over Mei’s floor. After he’d been more-or-less-dried, he stared at himself in the mirror. He had been due to get his hair cut the day after he’d been kidnapped, and it showed. His beard, which had been more or less neat before, had gone wild. Unwanted stubble flecked his jaws, and his beard need a trim. He’d need to ask Mei to go the store and get a razor and some shaving cream. 

“Mei, do you have any clean clothes?” Gabriel called. 

“What?” 

“Clean clothes!” 

“What?” 

“Come closer to the door, Mei!” 

Footsteps shuffled closer. 

“Do you have any clean clothes?” 

“Not in your size.” Mei said, tone apologetic.

“Well, can you send Hanzo over? And a pair of scissors?” 

“Why?” Mei asked, mystified. 

“I want him to cut my hair.” 

“I can do it,” He could practically hear Mei’s frown. 

“I know you can, but I’m naked.” 

There was a stretch of silence between them.

“I don’t want you to see me  _ naked,  _ Mei.” 

“Oh! Oh.” She sounded embarrassed. “Oh, oh. Sorry, sorry, I’ll just go get him. Hanzo!” Her footsteps moved off in another direction, and she called for the vampire. Gabriel, meanwhile, firmly fixed his towel around his waist and tried not to think about how he’d be mostly naked around another person. It wasn’t that it bothered him…

Okay, it bothered him. He’d just have to not think about it. 

Hanzo knocked on the door a few moments later. “Reyes-san? Are you alright?” 

“Yeah. I just need your help with something.” 

“... In the bathroom?” 

“Yes, Hanzo.” 

“What are the scissors for?” 

“Whatever you’re thinking they’re for, they’re not. I need a haircut.” 

“Oh! Oh.” Hanzo sounded slightly relieved. “Unlock the door.” 

Gabriel got up and unlocked it. 

The vampire quietly pushed his way in. He had regained some of his previous air of dignity- quiet sophistication practically rolled off him in waves. He’d brushed his hair and re-tied his scarf, and there was probably some cute vampire trick that made him look so clean and his clothes so un-mussed. He didn’t have so much of a hair out of place.

“You look better.” Gabriel offered.

“You smell better.” Hanzo returned in kind, making Gabriel scowl just the slightest bit. Hanzo indicated the toilet seat. “Sit down. And if you need assurance, beauty is a vampiric trait- I will not maul your hair.” 

“Think you could do anything about my beard?” 

“Not without a razor.” Hanzo shook his head slightly. “Perhaps trim it so it looks more presentable…” 

“Do whatever you have to.” Gabriel directed. 

There proceeded about thirty minutes of being intensely stared at. The scissors snipped precisely, and Hanzo had him hold his head at about a hundred different awkward angles. Gabriel thought that this should’ve taken maybe ten minutes maximum, but Hanzo was very insistent on getting it perfect. 

Hanzo’s gaze finally moved from the top of his head to his mouth. He let out a faint hum, very gingerly snipping away stray hairs and trimming Gabriel’s beard back. After that, he reassessed Gabriel’s new haircut, clipping slowly and assuring he’d gotten everything perfect.

“Done,” He declared. He set the scissors on the marble countertop with a soft clatter, then wiped his brow. Gabriel was pretty sure he didn’t sweat ( lucky dick ) so probably just a force of habit. 

“Thanks.” Gabriel nodded, wrenching himself to his feet. “Uhh… I don’t have any clothes.” 

“I noticed.” Hanzo wrinkled his nose. “I’ll ask Mei if she’ll allow me to pick clothes out for you. What are your measurements?” 

“I don’t know. My clothes are over there-” Gabriel pointed. “And they fit. So whatever they say are my measurements are my measurements.” 

Hanzo hummed slightly, collecting them off the ground. “Anticipate us back in an hour or two, Reyes-san.” 

“Thank you. Oh, uh, can you get a razor and shaving cream, while you’re out?”

“Of course.” Hanzo drifted out the door and closed it, an air of finality about it. 

Which left Gabriel to sit alone on the toilet bowl lid, staring at the wall. 

For what looked like two hours.

“Liao!”

“Yeah?” Her voice came from the livingroom.

“Do you have your phone with you?” 

“Sure, what do you want it for?”

“Slide it under the bathroom door!” 

“Why?”

“I don’t have any clothes and I’m going to get bored sitting here.” 

“I could just open the door-”

“No!”

“Gabriel, I’ve seen your dick before, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

“Just  _ do  _ it, Liao!” 

Incomprehensible muttering came from behind the door, and there was the slow pacing of footsteps towards the bathroom. There was some slight shuffling, and Liao slid her smartphone under the door. 

“Thanks.”

“If you post anything on my Twitter or Facebook, I’m going to go to the Reaper’s doorstep and drop you there.” Liao threatened. “I mean it, Gabe. Stay on YouTube or-”

“You’ve got Candy Crush!” Gabriel hooted. “I never pegged you as a  _ Candy Crush  _ person, Liao.” 

“Shut up!” Then, when Gabriel started laughing, “Gabe, I swear to God! I’m trying to be  _ nice!”  _

“Fine, fine.” Gabriel attempted to get out the last of his giggles. “Thank you, Liao.”

“It’s about a two hour drive back to LA, Gabe. Tomorrow we’ll get all your stuff and move back to your house, and you can use your own damn phone.” Footsteps indicated her walking away, and Gabriel headed to Google, browsing the news to see if he’d missed anything major from the past couple of days. 

Liao’s phone was on 20% battery when the front door opened and shut. Gabriel glanced at the phone’s clock- It was five twenty-seven PM, roughly two hours after Hanzo and Mei had left to go shopping. There was a burble of chatter, incoherent from behind a door and at this distance, but he recognized Hanzo, Mei, and Liao’s voices. 

A couple minutes later a knock came at the door. 

Hanzo cleared his throat. “Reyes-san.” 

“I didn’t go anywhere.” Gabriel told him. 

“Unlock the door.” 

“Right, right.” He padded up to it, turning the lock and opening the door. Hanzo quietly passed him new clothes. “Did you remember-” 

Hanzo offered him shaving cream and a pack of razors. 

“Thank you, Hanzo.” 

“You’re welcome.” There was a ghost of a smile on the vampire’s face when he closed the door. 

Gabriel quickly took care of the stubble that’d grown- He splashed his jaw, rubbing over the smoother skin with a distinct feeling of satisfaction. He dressed in the clothes Hanzo had gotten with him, slightly relieved that he hadn’t tried to buy anything a little… Out there. Hanzo looked good in his gi, but Gabriel was decently sure he wouldn’t look good in one. Fortunately, Hanzo had bought him almost an exact mirror of his old clothes. A new dark grey hoodie- his old one had proved to be unsalvageable due to the harpy blood splattering his front. A tee-shirt, white and plain. Jeans- sturdy and practical- and new boxers. 

Gabriel looked at himself in the mirror. 

He looked… Normal. The only indication that he had ever been kidnapped was the touch of hunger to his face and the exhaustion. Once again, there was a clash between what he saw and what he felt. He glanced down at his hands, breathing deeply. He concentrated on his memories of the supernatural- Of Roadhog and Jamison  and Hanzo and Ana- and his Sight snapped open. He could feel Mei, Hanzo, Jesse, Liao, and Jamison mingling quietly downstairs, feel them with the Sight. 

_ You can’t start doubting yourself, Gabriel.  _

He closed his Sight, then exited the bathroom. 

“You look a lot better, Gabriel.” Liao had been waiting for him. The slippery thing he had seen with his Sight came back to mind, but he forced it aside. That would need to be a conversation when they were well and truly alone.

“Miracle what a shower, a shave, and some clothes can do.” Gabriel grunted in agreement.

“Can I have my phone back?” 

“Yeah.” Gabriel passed it off to her. “I’m gonna go talk to Hanzo.”  

“Alright. Tomorrow morning we’re going to head back to your apartment.” 

“Just us?” Gabriel asked. 

“Mei has to stay here. As for your other friends, I think they’ll want to go home. It’s been an interesting excursion, but that pixie collapsed on the couch fifteen minutes ago. Oh-” Something dawned in her eyes. “Wait a little while before you talk to Hanzo, okay?” 

“What? Why?” 

“The werewolf transformed into a human.” Liao scowled slightly.

“And…?” 

“They went in the guest bedroom together five minutes ago.” 

“I don’t get what your point is.” 

“You are not  _ that dense.”  _

“What do you- Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Seriously? In somebody else’s house?” 

“It’s been a stressful day.” Liao said dryly. “I’d wait a while to talk to him if I were you.” 

“Thanks. God knows how awkward walking in on that would’ve been.” Gabriel made a face. “Did I miss anything serious this week, by the way?” 

“Not really. There were a handful of…  _ Incidents,  _ but outside of my jurisdiction, so I didn’t hear much.” 

“Incidents?” 

“Something about a zombie dinosaur in Chicago?” Liao’s nose wrinkled. “From what I understand the situation was wrapped up neatly, so I didn’t pry into it. Northerners will figure themselves out.”

“Sounds cold, Liao.” Gabriel joked.

She grunted. “I had to apprehend a screaming witch ranting about soldiers and raccoons on Wednesday. That was a fun one.” 

“What day is it today?” 

“The seventeenth?” Liao checked her phone. “The seventeenth.” 

“Christ, it’s only a week until Christmas.” Gabriel dragged his hand over his face. “Did you get me anything?” 

“I bought you a present in November.” She eyed him. “Did  _ you  _ get me anything?” 

“Well… Not yet. I meant to on Monday, but you know how that went.” Gabriel shrugged. “Did you decorate your apartment?” 

“I did. The office is decorated now, too.” 

“Speaking of the office… I’m going to lose my job, aren’t I?” 

Liao pursed her lips. “You went missing for five days. We thought… I mean. We thought you were dead. I asked your landlord if he’d seen you anytime. He told me no, but said he’d had a terrifying dream where he’d seen a blond woman with wings break in and carry you away. I asked for a key to your apartment, he gave it to me, and you were completely gone. I just… I assumed the Reaper had taken you in the middle of the night. I should’ve been watching you closer. I am so,  _ so  _ sorry, Gabriel. None of this… None of this would’ve happened if I had just…” 

She looked away. Gabriel set a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine. We’re fine.” 

She nodded just the slightest bit. Gabriel decided to switch the topic. 

“How did Mei find me?” 

“She was doing a routine patrol. Tracer- one of the Overwatch members- told us there had been reports of a lionlike creature in the Los Padres Forest. She asked Mei for backup, just in case, and Mei drove by and found you by the side of the road. It was luck.” Her voice pitched. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You could’ve died…” 

“Liao. Come on.” Gabriel grabbed her by the upper arm. “Call me a dumbass for allowing myself to get caught in the first place. Insult me. C’mon.” 

“Gabriel, go talk to Mei.” Liao muttered, pulling away. “I have to use the bathroom.” 

“But-” Gabriel initially protested, but he switched gears. “Okay.” 

He headed into Mei’s living room, picking out the larger couch for himself to sleep on tonight. Mei was sitting on the other, watching Netflix on her laptop. 

“What’re you watching?” 

“March of the Penguins!” Mei replied promptly. 

“What’s that?” 

“A documentary on penguins.” 

“Is it as boring as it sounds?” Gabriel asked, and she replied with a scoff.

“No! It’s very interesting.” 

“If you say so. Do you have any leftovers in the fridge?” 

“It’s not dinnertime yet!” She scolded. 

“I’m hungry.” 

“My girlfriend left a couple protein bars, I guess you could have one of those.” Mei concluded. 

“Thank you.” 

He rummaged around in the cupboards ( “The other one!” Mei told him after he complained he couldn’t find anything ) and managed to shake out a plain protein bar. It tasted alright. 

“Do you want to watch a movie with Liao?” Mei asked. “Or maybe a TV show? Do you like Steven Universe? It’s not on Netflix, but I can get it on other sites.”

“Uh, I’ve never heard of it.” 

“It’s a kid’s show.” Mei admitted abashedly. “But it’s a good show.” 

“Well… We’ve got time.” Gabriel said slowly. “I’ll watch a  _ couple  _ episodes.” 

The main character’s voice actor was a little bit annoying, but the plot was interesting enough to watch for a while. Liao came down the stairs during the fifth episode and started watching with the rest of them. 

At six thirty-ish a sleepy-looking, likely post-coitus Hanzo ambled out of the guest room, hair down and clothes askew. He mumbled a greeting to the three of them on the couch and shuffled towards the fridge. Closely followed behind him was Jesse, in human form. The werewolf was, thankfully, clothed, and he slunk after Hanzo. He slung one arm around the vampire and nuzzled his face into his neck, mumbling something affectionately. Hanzo didn’t try to stop him.

“Looks like it did him some good.” Gabriel observed quietly. Liao grunted in agreement, eyes rigidly focused on the screen of Mei’s laptop. He nudged her with his elbow. “I’m serious. Maybe I should do some canoodling.” 

“Canoodle somewhere else.” Liao shoved him slightly. 

“I have the God-given right to canoodle in public.” 

“No, you don’t,” Liao countered. 

“Please do not canoodle in front of us,” Mei added.

“My American freedom is in jeopardy.” Gabriel complained. 

“Shut up.” Liao jabbed him with her elbow. “It’s Mei’s house, and she told you not to.” 

“This is discrimination,” Gabriel smiled. He got an indignant huff from Liao, but they all quieted down to keep watching the show. 

After a while Hanzo and Jesse meandered over. “Reyes-san. Let’s talk.” 

Gabriel hit the spacebar to pause and stood up, stretching stiff muscles. “Okay.” 

“To get this straight: You aren’t coming home with us.” 

“I’m sorry. But I want to go home, Hanzo.” Gabriel folded his arms uncomfortably. “I don’t… I don’t feel safe in the forest, Hanzo.” 

Hurt flickered across his expression. “Okay. The sooner we depart, the better. It… Was an interesting day out. If nothing, I have gained experience.” 

“That’s the way to think, sunshine.” Jesse rumbled sweetly. “Think ‘bout how much fun we had.” 

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Hanzo’s mouth. “Fun, indeed. Where’s Jamison?” 

“Sleeping.” Liao indicated Gabriel’s chosen couch, where the teeny pixie lay facedown, snoring audibly. 

“We’ll go now. It’s only a few day’s journey.” 

“I could drive you in the morning,” Mei offered sheepishly. “At least out of the city.” 

“Awful sweet of you. I reckon we  _ do  _ need some rest before we go traipsin’ ‘round the forest at night.” 

“I suppose we can stay. But we’ll leave early, to maximize daylight.” 

“Gabriel and I should leave sometime late tomorrow morning.” 

“I would prefer to not have extended goodbyes. We’ll be gone before you wake, Reyes-san.” With that, he and Jesse headed back into the guest bedroom. 

“They’re really gay.” Gabriel observed idly.

“Says Gay-briel.” Liao teased.

“Cheap shot,” He frowned. 

“Get used to it. Now start up the show, I think we’re about to see Opal.” 

Mei made popcorn and brought out sodas, and at around nine they had dinner. Jesse came out to snatch up Burger King leftovers, then made a beeline for their bedroom. Gabriel wondered what they were doing in there. They couldn’t be having sex for three hours straight, right? 

They finished the last of the Burger King leftovers together and settled in again. Mei fell asleep on Gabriel’s shoulder at about ten PM, and Liao was yawning by eleven. At midnight, Gabriel was forcing himself to keep his eyes open. The episode he was watching, Mask Island, hit too close to home, and he had to turn it off.

He closed the laptop at 12:32, sighing quietly. Liao had finally descended into sleep, snoozing comfortably on the side of the couch. Gabriel thought about shaking Mei awake and herding her to her bed, but decided against it. He trudged into her bedroom, retrieving a blanket, and he draped it over her and Liao, leaving them to their rest.

He looked down at the couch he’d be sleeping on. He carefully picked Jamison up and laid him on the top of the armrest, out of the way so Gabriel wouldn’t roll over in his sleep and crush him. Surprisingly enough, the pixie didn’t so much as stir. 

Gabriel slept. 

=

He was in Ana’s house again, no surprise. Wearing his old clothes, sans their stains and so forth. He had a cup of tea in his hands, and he sipped it gratefully.

Ana sat across from him, expression unreadable. 

“Hi.” Gabriel made the first move.

“What’s going on right now?” 

“I’ll get you to speed. I’m with Overwatch right now, as well as Hanzo, Jesse, and Jamison. I’m safe. I’m going home, back to LA, tomorrow. Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“Ah.” She didn’t sound enthused by the prospect.

“I’ll visit, Ana.” 

“Will you?” 

“Yeah. You saved my life by letting me in. I would’ve starved to death in the forest without you.” Gabriel encouraged. 

“I guess you’re right.” She sipped her own tea.

“Hanzo, Jesse, and Jamison should be headed back to your house tomorrow morning. I’ll-” 

“Do you have a phone?” 

“What? Yeah, I do.” 

“What’s the number?” 

Gabriel told her.

“Okay.” She scribbled it down on a pad of paper on the tabletop, which had an impromptu grocery list and tiny swears scrawled by a suspiciously pixie-esque hand. 

“Do you get  _ service  _ up in the mountains?” Gabriel asked.

“No, but we get magical service.” 

“Magical phone numbers?” Gabriel was  _ highly  _ skeptical. 

“Less a phone number, more a video call. Memorize  _ these  _ numbers.” 

She tapped the pen nib against the paper, and spidery writing scrawled across the page before his very eyes. It was a handful of digits, and looked basically like a normal phone number.

“Uh…” 

“It appears normal, but I will get the call, trust me.” 

“Huh.” 

“Huh, indeed.” Ana swirled her tea with a spoon, shaking some honey into it. “Be safe, Gabriel. Wherever you go. Wherever the world takes you. I’ll leave you to dream.” 

“I’ll call as soon as I settle back in my apartment,” Gabriel promised.

“See that you do,” She smiled, oddly sad, and the whole world plunged into darkness.

=

Gabriel woke up to sunlight streaming over his face. 

He groaned, faintly, and Liao padded over.

“You’re finally up,” She said. “Mei and Hanzo left two hours ago.” 

“Shit, what time is it?” Gabriel fumbled to get up, but Liao held him back by placing her hand on his chest.

“It’s only nine. Don’t worry about it. Hanzo just wanted to leave as early as possible.” 

Gabriel sagged back into the couch. 

“When are we leaving?” 

“As soon as you’re ready. You’re already dressed, and I don’t think you’ve got any luggage.” 

“If Mei’s using her car to take Hanzo and the others, how are we going to get to LA?” 

“I brought my own car from LA the second Mei told me she had you. How did you think I got here?” 

“Never thought about it.” 

Liao snorted. “Mei left out some protein bars for you to have in case you get hungry in the car. I’ve got a couple water bottles in there if you get thirsty.” 

“Thanks.” 

Leaving Mei’s apartment was not a complicated affair. It was a short walk to Liao’s car, a slender little red Toyota with visible lines on one of the doors from repeated keyings. 

“You still haven’t gotten that fixed?” Gabriel asked, sitting down in the shotgun seat with a soft  _ whuff.  _ He left the box of protein bars in his lap. 

“I’ve been a little busy looking for you.” She replied tartly. “And besides, it gives her some character.” She patted the steering wheel and slammed her door. “Let’s go.” 

“Do we need a MapQuest or-” 

“My phone’s got the directions.” She plugged her phone into the charger already ported into the jack. “I’ll be fine once we get on the highway, then we can turn on the radio.” 

_ “Turn right.”  _

“I know, Siri.” Liao mumbled. 

It took a while to get out of Santa Barbara, but Liao managed to navigate her way onto Route 101. Traffic wasn’t as terrible as it could’ve been. 

Liao tuned the radio to NPR’s Car Talk, where a caller relayed a story about her husband’s insistence on how to properly use the breaks on their truck. It was fascinatingly boring, in Gabriel’s opinion, but Liao seemed to like it.

“Never figured you for a Car Talk kind of person.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the choice.

“I hate the other garbage on the radio.” 

“Turn it off for a second.” 

She turned it down and not off, but close enough. 

“I want to talk to you.” 

“I’m an open book, Gabe.” She nodded, eyes focused rigidly ahead.

“What  _ are  _ you? When I use my Sight, I can see…”

“What can you see?” Her fingers tightened on the steeringwheel. 

“It’s hard to describe. It’s… Cold. Dark. Slimy isn’t exactly the right word… It feels like licking up pizza grease. Slippery. Disgusting.” 

Liao’s face tightened. “Have you told anyone else?” 

“No, but I think Roadhog knew.” Gabriel glanced at her. “He hit you first. He knew Mei was a yeti, he knew Hanzo was a vampire, but he attacked you first. And he was trying to knock you out. Liao, why-”

“Gabriel. Trust me when I say you don’t want to know.” 

“What? Liao-” 

“Gabriel, I haven’t been entirely truthful about a lot of things, I know that, but  _ trust  _ me when I tell you that you  _ don’t  _ want to know what I am. God willing, you’ll never have to learn.” She shifted her fingers on the wheel, glancing back at him. “I don’t want to be rude, Gabe, but just-  _ Drop it.”  _

There was quiet for a moment.

“Liao, you’re not…?” 

“I’m your friend, Gabriel. Don’t forget that, no matter what you think I am or whatever I turn out to be.” 

There was a long silence, and Liao cranked up Car Talk. That ended that conversation, then, and Gabriel was left with even more doubts and misgivings than before.

There was a traffic jam, of course, due to some accident. They crawled along at a snail’s pace, and Gabriel nervously chewed through at least two protein bars and one of the bottles of water in the back of Liao’s car. 

“You never told me if I’m going to lose my job.” Gabriel prompted, incapable of sitting still and listening to the Magliozzi brothers chatter.

“I don’t think you can work there anymore. I’ll get resignation papers together-” 

“I’m fit for duty,” Gabriel objected faintly. “I’m even more fit now, with the Sight.” 

Liao’s gaze swept over him nervously. “I’ll put you on paid leave, but I’m not letting you do active duty.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m scared you’re going to be taken again, Gabriel. After this, it’s become obvious that I can’t just ward off the Reaper and her followers with my presence anymore. They’re getting bolder, more impatient. Something’s happening.” 

“Jack mentioned the Reaper’s host dies eventually. Maybe the host is about to die and they’re getting desperate.” Gabriel suggested. 

“That could be it,” Liao agreed reluctantly. “But for Amelie to die so quickly… She’s weaker than I had thought.” 

“Or the Reaper is killing her faster.” 

“Also a possibility.” Liao shook her head. “All we can do is speculate until they give up and the Reaper has to pick another person to be the Mantle.”

They eventually passed the accident on the road, and they were able to speed off towards LA. The trip proceeded mostly quietly, save the charismatic laughs of the two hosts of Car Talk and some of their banter with callers. 

They pulled up by the parking garage a block or two away from Gabriel’s apartment complex.

“You need to move to a better place.” Liao wrinkled her nose. “How are you not scared of getting mugged?” 

“I’m a big tough man.” Gabriel opened the car door and slammed it. “If I put on my hood and adjust my walk, I blend right in with all the other muggers.” 

“You should move apartments.” Liao suggested. “Something uptown.” 

“It’s  _ expensive  _ uptown.” 

“An officer’s salary is pretty high, Gabriel. What do you spend it all on? Not food, I’ve seen your fridge.” 

“Money for the pizza deliveryman. He needs at least a hundred dollars as a tip or he won’t deliver down here.” Gabriel joked.

Liao snorted. “Come on. Let’s just grab your stuff.” 

They walked together and thankfully weren’t mugged- didn’t happen often in broad daylight. When they headed into his apartment building, his landlord looked up at him and a grin split his face. 

“Gabriel!” 

“Hey, Lucio.” Gabriel replied, steeling himself for social interaction. 

“Holy crap, you’ve been missing for, like, a  _ week.  _ Where did you go? We all thought you died!” Lucio leaned up on his desk, peering at Gabriel as if he’d disappear at any moment. 

“I took a surprise vacation.” Gabriel announced. “I also lost my keys. Do you have a spare set?” 

“Uh, yeah.” He glanced at Liao, and seemed to recognize her. “Oh, you’re that cop lady! Did you find him?” 

“Yeah. He took a vacation to Santa Barbara.” 

“Oh, nice. You know, we’ve got better beaches in Rio.” 

“Couldn’t afford a plane ticket to Rio.” Gabriel shook his head. “Nice to know you were worried, Lucio. I’m gonna go get some sleep up in my apartment.” 

“Wait up a sec. Someone came by a couple days ago to ask about you. Latina, long nails, thin, sorta short?” 

Gabriel glanced at Liao, who looked similarly mystified. “What did she say?” 

“Wanted to know if you’d been by recently. I told her no, you’d been gone all week. She left after that.” He drummed his fingers on the desktop. “Anyway. You probably want your keys, right?” He opened a drawer behind the desk, and tossed them at Gabriel. He caught them, gave Lucio a wave, and headed upstairs. 

“Use your Sight.” Liao muttered.

“Huh?” 

“Your  _ Sight.  _ There’s bound to be something waiting for us in your apartment.” 

“Oh.” He exhaled slowly and his Sight met him. 

He could feel Lucio downstairs. Warm rays of sunshine, the sweet bite of a juicy pear, the thrum of music in his heart and soul, the genuinity of a good person who did what they thought was right. A swirl of righteousness, of determination, that thudded like war drums, or the beat on a synth track. Beneath all of this, the greyness of humankind, and a chunk of sweetness that almost made him giddy. 

In their apartments, his neighbors. The dull greyness of humankind surrounding him- At least a dozen mortals were nearby, except…

One of them. Gabriel opened his eyes a slit, trying to pinpoint it. 

“Something in here isn’t human.” He reported quietly. “I don’t know what it is. There’s a lot of humans here, they’re cluttering me too much. I don’t think it’s in my apartment…” 

Liao grunted. They headed to his apartment, and to Gabriel’s relief, the person hiding from his Sight was several doors down. At this distance he felt the bloody undertones that reminded him of Hanzo. A vampire, then. He was glad he hadn’t ever really gotten to know his neighbors. 

“Nothing’s inside.” Gabriel affirmed. “Or… My Sight doesn’t think so.” 

“I’ll go first.” Liao murmured. 

She took Gabriel’s key, unlocking the door. She flicked on the lights and stepped in. Gabriel was hit with a sudden surge of agonizing homesickness, and he pushed past her. He took in the scent of his home- His musk, the slight waft of an old sandalwood candle he’d burned to try to erase the smell of the bathroom, alcohol, and old pizza. The comforting familiarity of his couch. The ugly, peeling walls. The battered cabinets. The cantankerous old fridge, still wheezing away painfully. His laptop, comfortably placed on his coffeetable. The blanket, on the floor, from his struggling. The blinds, still half-open. The place seemed far too still, far too blank, but it was...

“Home,” Gabriel murmured before he could help himself. At the onrush of relief and emotion, his Sight abruptly snapped closed.  _ Home.  _

“I forgot how messy you kept this place.” Liao was eyeing an overflowing trash can.

“I’ve been waiting to come home ever since I was abducted. Lay off me.” Gabriel muttered. 

He grabbed his phone out of his drawer and threw himself on the couch. It still had his comfortable groove from all the times he’d slept on it. Just as he remembered. He pawed through his notifications, glancing up at Liao in surprise. “Jesus Christ. Thirty missed calls? How many times did you call me, Liao?”

She went slightly red. “I was  _ worried  _ about you, asshole.” 

“Thanks, but I still have to pay the phone bill.” 

She huffed. “I’ll be right back, Gabriel. I’m gonna go talk to your landlord about the woman who asked about you. She doesn’t sound like anyone I know, and no offense, but you don’t have that many friends who would ask about you.” 

“I think I should probably come with you.” He rose off the couch, shoving his phone in his pocket. 

“Yeah, if I leave you for ten seconds you’ll probably get kidnapped again.” She snorted dismissively. She attempted to turn the doorknob, and Gabriel waited for her to open it so they could go.

“The damn door’s stuck.” Liao turned back to Gabriel.

“What? It’s never gotten stuck before. Are you sure it’s not locked?” 

“Yes, I’m an absolute idiot, Gabriel.” She said sarcastically. “It’s  _ stuck,  _ not locked.” 

“Actually.” A chuckle rolled through the room. The hairs on the back of Gabriel’s neck stood up, and he whirled around. His eyes darted over his living space, looking for the source of the voice. “It’s not.” 

“Liao, what the hell was-” 

“I don’t know.” She drew her gun from her holster. “Show yourself!” 

It was definitely a woman’s voice. Raspy, with a Spanish trill. “Maybe later, chica. I’m not gunning for you, but I do want that handsome little Mantle right there.” 

“Gabriel isn’t going anywhere.” 

“Says you, chica? Who cares what  _ you  _ say?” An indulgent chuckle. 

There was a flicker in one corner, and beside his fridge, a woman appeared as if by magic. She had his last slice of leftover pizza in her hand- _ jerk _ \- and was smiling broadly. Gabriel only had time to get a glimpse- purple eyes, a purple coat, Latinx, thin, female, of an indeterminate age. 

“Let’s rock, chica!” She disappeared abruptly, like a ghost or a magician.

Liao snarled, crouching down in fight-or-flight mode. “Gabriel, get the goddamn door open! I don’t care if you’ve got to knock it off its hinges, open the damn door!” 

Liao was abruptly tackled, crashing into the back of his couch. The woman reappeared on top of Liao, beaming broadly. Her victorious smile and the witty retort she attempted to make was interrupted when Liao socked her clear in the jaw and forced her off.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was working on getting the door open. He slammed his shoulder against it, cursing under his breath. 

He hazarded a glance back. Both of them were on their feet, struggling in the cramped space between the couch and the kitchen. The woman had her fingers digging into Liao’s throat, but Liao managed to shake her off and kick her solidly into the shoulder. Gabriel winced when she was slammed into his counter, and had no fucking clue how he’d explain if anything got broken to Lucio. Dammit. 

“Open, open, open!” Gabriel chanted at the door, ramming the entire side of his body into it. Fucking thing would NOT break! 

“I’m gonna fucking  _ murder  _ you, chica!” A punch landed on Liao’s face, and when Liao swiped out to hit her, she vanished with a ripple of purple. A second later, the woman was behind Liao, grasping her in a full nelson. 

Gabriel abandoned the door and joined the fight, landing a solid kick on the woman’s ribs. She let go of Liao reflexively, but managed to catch herself before she fell to the ground. 

“Two on one, huh? This ain’t fair.” She disappeared again and Liao made a furious, frustrated sound, rubbing her throat.

The woman reappeared in front of Liao, jabbing her promptly in the nose. “Boop!” 

Liao went stiff as a board and would’ve fallen over, had Gabriel not caught her.

“Liao, what the hell-” He patted the side of her face, but her eyes had glazed over, her expression not moving. She was still breathing- and normally, at that- but she’d just been… Paralyzed. 

Gabriel’s head whipped up, and the woman stood before him, smiling triumphantly. Her hand was an inch away from his nose, her purple nails glowing softly. 

Her index finger crossed that gap in half a second, and she merrily tapped him on the nose.

“Boop!” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost four hours later than my usual posting, and I would like to sincerely apologize. It's the longest chapter by close to 2000 words, and I had just about today to do it. Bright side, though- It's the longest chapter, and so far, my favorite chapter! 
> 
> Fun fact: There are a heaping helping of allusions in this particular chapter. This series is inspired by the Dresden Files and TF2, so I paid homage in the form of a couple light cameos : )
> 
> Second fun fact: I am Californian, born and bred, and have lived here all my life, so I can write better about Californian stuff than, say, I could about New York. I immediately lose this Cool Californian points because I live in the north and have never been further south than Santa Cruz : (


	17. The Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel becomes the Reaper.

Gabriel felt thick and fuzzy when he woke up. Not hungover- Just the warm resistance of the desire to keep sleeping.

He tried to sit up. 

Nope. 

Fresh panic shot through him, cutting through the sleepy haze. He glanced instinctively the wrist of his right arm, one of the areas that refused to let him up. Big metal shackles were tightened around his arms, pinning him to a cold concrete surface. He jerked frantically, experimentally, casting his gaze out to his legs. Also cuffed to the concrete, steel bands encircling his ankles. 

He was swaddled in a thin, long garment, that must've been a cloak made of silk or something similar. It did very little to protect him from how fucking cold the room was. He had already broken out in goosebumps, both from the chill and from fear of the unknown. He felt slightly…  _ Violated.  _ Someone had removed his clothes while he was unconscious, had dressed him in a flimsy garment that barely concealed anything. At least they’d had the courtesy to politely cover his junk with some of the cloak.  

He had a headrest- a pillow, or something similar. He wondered if it was to keep him from bashing his head open, whether while struggling or as a deliberate suicide tactic. Maybe his kidnappers were just polite. 

_ Polite kidnappers.  _ It ought to be an oxymoron. 

_ Focus, Gabriel, focus your damn head. _

He was in a small room. Eight by eight or smaller. The stone… Altar, or table, or whatever it was he was strapped to, was positioned dead in the center of the room. Each corner had a shelf, bearing four burning candles. They must’ve been scented, because Gabriel thought he detected the light smell of some kind of herb. At any rate, all they did was add to the creepy atmosphere. The walls were plain, undecorated, and painted black, to the point where it was hard to distinguish where the wall met the floor and the wall met the ceiling. None of this information would help him escape or gave him a clue about where he was. Great.

There was a soft creak of a door, then the soft pat of footsteps. Gabriel’s head snapped side to side frantically, attempting to find the source. They had approached from behind him, where Gabriel couldn't see them. He figured it was probably a deliberate scare tactic, and it pissed him off that it actually worked.

He strained to hear better, to see if he could get a clue as to who it could be. The slight clack he was hearing could only be nails scratching, and along with it, a sound he thought was rather like bare feet on a stone floor. He closed his eyes, attempting to pull up his Sight to find an indication of who it could be. 

Sterile thread. Cold needles. Glitters of warmth, the whirl of feathers. The scent of an old book when you crammed your nose between the pages. Gabriel opened his eyes and closed his Sight. He shifted, attempting to break the bonds.

“Let me go.” Gabriel snarled.  

“You have a date with destiny, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel froze. 

Angela stepped into full view- her blond hair was allowed to hang loose, and she was dressed in the same thin, jet-black silk robe Gabriel was in. It showed off the milky skin of her chest and the soft flesh of her belly, and Gabriel moved his gaze up to her face before his eyes could wander any lower. She did not, evidently, have the courtesy of someone hiding her groin. She paced over onto his left, fingers clasped together behind her back. Her face was impassive and pretty, blue eyes stormy and unreadable. Gabriel jerked at his bonds to no avail. 

“I thought I shot you.” Gabriel’s voice was a lot stronger than he felt. “How the hell did you survive? It was point blank in the abdomen, it should’ve… You should’ve died.” 

“I’m a healer, Gabriel. Stitching together my wounds was elementary. Trying to find you afterwards… Knowing you were so scared of your destiny, it was more of an obstacle than getting shot was.” 

“Angela, let me take over.” Another voice interjected. The click of heels on stone came to him, and he cast his gaze to his right. Another slender woman, her voice carrying a French trill. Sheets of long, dark hair cascaded down this woman’s shoulders, ending at the small of her back. She had high cheekbones, proud features, and eyes like chips of citrine. She was slender to the point of gauntness, pretty but slightly sickly. Her skin was tinged an unnatural purplish blue. Feathers crested her arms, purplish black, the same glossy sheen of a crow’s wing. 

She, too, was adorned in a silken black robe, but she was dressed in more than just that, unlike himself and Angela. She was wearing heels ( not that Gabriel could see them from this angle, but he could hear them clicking ) and something that resembled a crown encrusted with red jewels. 

“Let me get to the point, Gabriel.” She said quietly. “I am dying.”

“Aren’t we all,” Gabriel jerked violently, vainly, but the steel held. God dammit. 

“Keep your snark. The Reaper is killing me, as it has killed so many others. Pay close attention.” Gabriel bit off a smart remark. “The Reaper sees minds and souls and hearts and bodies. My mind and body are not destined for the Reaper. I am not a good host, nor am I the Mantle it is looking for. I took the Reaper for shortsided vengeance, and as vicious as it may be, the Reaper is not a fan of those who actively chase power.”

“What’s your point?”

“I’m getting to it. Once the Reaper leaves its host, the Mantle dies. It is how the Reaper is transferred- the host is destined to perish so the Reaper can leech from a stronger source. You are the stronger source. I am the host. Therefore, I die.” 

“Yeah.” Gabriel replied blandly. 

“I still have several years of my life left to live. I have goals. Ambitions. All of them shackled by…” She balled her hands into fists. Wisps of black smoke coiled out from the cracks of her fingers. “This  _ thing.  _ I became the Reaper because I wanted power, without thinking of the consequences. And now I want an out, and _ you  _ are my out.”

She paced forward, until she stood just before Gabriel’s feet. Her expression was completely unreadable, but there may have been glints of sympathy in her yellow gaze. “I’m going to cheat death. I’m going to cheat the Reaper.” 

“You’re insane,” Gabriel barked.

“That’s right.” She said simply. 

Angela paced forward, until she stood behind the Reaper’s Mantle. She exhaled, soft and shaky. “Amelie…”

“Do not waver now. We are so close.” There were fragments of sympathy buried in her voice, and she turned her head to regard the harpy behind her. “I would not ask this of you if I did not think you could do it.” 

Her gaze turned back to Gabriel. “Do not fear. This will not hurt for long. Nor will you change in any fundamental way.”

“Stop. Please,  _ God. _ ” Gabriel couldn’t feel his mouth move when he spoke; he assessed that as numbed by fear. 

“It has already been set in motion.” A long exhale from Amelie. “Angela, do it.”

The harpy cupped the Mantle’s chin from behind with painful delicacy, other hand clutching a long, glinting silver knife. He had a horrible sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to happen. 

Angela slit Amelie’s throat without much ceremony. 

She dropped the knife on the alter Gabriel was strapped to, moving both hands to support Amelie, who could no longer support herself. Arterial blood sprayed and gushed, far too much precious lifeblood for the Mantle to survive. Gibbering fear made Gabriel’s insides quake, and his heart thudded loudly, uncomfortably, in his chest. He felt as though he had been stabbed, or that he might be sick. 

_ Was this inevitable?  _ He asked himself in his head.  _ Was this destined? Am I the Reaper now?  _

The purpleish tinge left Amelie, gifting her with pale, peach-colored skin. That was bizarre, because Gabriel was decently certain she should not be that pink whilst missing that much blood. 

Something escaped her throat. 

A writhing, roiling mass that looked like a darkened cloud. It flowed out of her open mouth and hung in the air, confused and lost. A wave of fear and nausea swept over Gabriel as he realized exactly what it was. The rippling cloud of black smoke was the  _ Reaper.  _

“Don’t be scared.” Angela encouraged quietly.

“What the fuck--” 

“You’re not as prepared as I would’ve liked. But you embody the good traits of a mortal. Strong. Intelligent. Brave. Witty. And, if I am not mistaken, you possess Sight now, don’t you? Good. You would’ve developed it as the Reaper. But it’s good to have it early, I suppose.” Angela quietly laid Amelie on the floor, beyond his sight, then stood up and padded over to Gabriel. She gave his upper arm a squeeze and Gabriel attempted to lunge out and bite her hand. He got a mouthful of feathers and a sympathetic look for his troubles.

“I understand you’re angry. You may feel this isn’t fair. You may feel cut off and alone. But I’m here to help you. To guide you.” Angela ran a hand affectionately through his hair. “Whatever you’re feeling right now- Scared, helpless, miserable, furious- You’ll feel better once this is all over. Think of it like… Ripping off a bandaid.” 

“I hate you,” Gabriel attempted to lunge forward as much as he could, to bite and spit and  _ defy  _ what looked to be an inevitable. “I  _ hate  _ you!” 

“Shh.” Angela shushed him gently, placing her delicate fingers just beneath his breastbone and pushing him down. “Take a moment. Breathe. In for five, out for eight. I’ll be right back.” 

Gabriel closed his eyes, attempting to soothe his frantically beating heart. How bad could the Reaper possibly be? Liao had hyped it up to be something horrible, but how much would he and the rest of his life change? A lot? A little? Not at all? He just wanted be back home. Always had. 

Gabriel momentarily thought about opening his Sight to see the Reaper, but Roadhog’s warning came to mind.  _ “Your Sight’ll won’t always be nice. Some things you see are gonna be bad.”  _ He had a feeling that the Reaper was probably one of those ‘bad’ things. 

“What are you doing over there?” Gabriel asked. His guts were twisting themselves into anxious knots- All this waiting was making it a million times worse. If Angela was supposed to be his helper, she had damn well better answer his terrified questions. 

“Helping Amelie.” 

“You murdered her.” Gabriel said, shakily. “You murdered her, Angela. You slit her throat.”

“Yes.” She said quietly. “But she won’t be this way for long.”

“What the hell do you mean?” 

“Amelie had complete, absolute faith in me when I killed her.” Angela paused a moment. “I’m going to bring her back. I’m a healer, Gabriel. And I’ve found a way to save fresh people from death.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“A week ago, you would’ve said a harpy was impossible.” Angela replied quietly. 

There was a short, tense silence.

“Gabriel, I know you must have questions- It is the very least I can do.” 

He exhaled shakily. “Why was it me?” 

“The Reaper choses. Not us.” Angela’s voice was apologetic. “It saw something in you. Something glimmering with potential. It doesn’t pick humans very often. You’re the first in quite a while.” 

“Great for me.” Gabriel muttered. “When does this happen? When do I…” 

“The Reaper is waiting.” 

“For what?” 

“Us. There always needs to be a helper in the transfer of the Reaper. I was Amelie’s helper, and I will be yours’, as well. Not yet, though.” 

“Anything I can do to convince you to… Not do this?”  _ Stay composed, Gabriel. You’re a fucking man.  _ His voice had gotten cracky and wavy, an indication of crying. Goddammit. Goddammit. He hadn’t  _ cried  _ yet this entire week, through all the shit that had happened. He was a strong person. He refused to break down. Not yet. Not now. 

“No.” 

Gabriel inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. “That sounds about right.” 

“Give me a moment. This’ll be over soon.” Angela encouraged. There was a moment of silence, and Gabriel was very tempted to open his Sight just to see what was going on. He resisted the urge, nervously eyeing the rippling cloud of the Reaper overhead. 

There was a sudden sharp gasp, a round of coughing, and Gabriel wished he could see properly. 

“Ouhh… Thank you,  _ cheri.”  _

Gabriel’s heart grew colder. 

He strained up at the cuffs violently, trying to get a good look. No way. She  _ died.  _ She died. Amelie LaCroix had her throat slit. He had seen the blood flow down the crimson slash in her neck, he had been able to see all the way into her windpipe. He and Angela had been talking for five minutes or more. Amelie bled out, there was no way… 

She stood up, Angela quietly helping her. Amelie. Healthy and pink. Less gaunt. She looked more alive than she had been before she died. He had to fight to not start hyperventilating. 

“He’s terrified.” Amelie’s eyes swept up and down his figure. “Angela, we should hurry this up and get this done before he passes out.” 

“Don’t be cruel.” Angela sounded slightly indignant. “You knew exactly what you were getting into when you became the Reaper. He doesn’t. He has no idea…” 

Her fingers glided down his cheek and he twisted, attempting to bite her. A savage, animal snarl left his throat, a sound he had no idea a human being could make. “Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me!” 

She pulled her hand back, dismay momentarily clouding her face. “Gabriel, we’re here to help you.” 

“I don’t want your fucking help! Let me  _ go!”  _

“Now, _ cheri.” _ Amelie’s hand came down insistently on Angela’s shoulder. “He’ll just get more and more worked up the longer we delay.”

Angela nodded, biting her lip. She raised her hands in the air, taking a deep, cool breath. Gabriel closed his eyes, bracing himself.

_ I am going to become the Reaper.  _

He couldn’t keep his eyes shut long enough. They snapped open. He wanted to see his doom. His entire body was shaking like a leaf in a storm. Angela’s eyes were glowing a somber yellow, and her fingers directed the Reaper’s cloudy mass towards him. The candles seemed to dim, and he swore he could hear whispers, the ghosts of lips brushing his ears.

Gabriel cried out for all his friends in his head. Ana. Hanzo. Jamison. Reinhardt. Liao. Even Roadhog. 

But most of all, Jack. 

The cloudy ball slithered around his head, encircling his mouth like a gag. He kept his lips sealed, eyes intently focused on the smoky form of the Reaper. 

_ Jack… _

The Reaper slithered in through his nose. Cold and horrible, like twin eels sliding down both nostrils, deeper and deeper until he lost track of where the Reaper was inside him.

No one was coming to help him.

And all at once,  _ unimaginable _ pain exploded through his body, and Gabriel started screaming.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Gabriel has been kidnapped a total of 5 times in this series. Once by Angela, before the series began. A second time by Angela, stealing him from Ana's house. A third time by Jack, who stole him from Angela. A fourth time by Roadhog, and a fifth time by Sombra. 
> 
> Bonus fun fact: The next chapter is the first and only chapter to be narrated by someone who isn't Gabriel. I wonder who it's going to be?
> 
> Also, here's a short hiatus warning. This is the one month anniversary of Out In The Big Wide Woods, and the last chapter for this week. I'm taking a week of break, from the nineteenth to the twenty-sixth, to catch up on schoolwork and celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. 
> 
> Thank you for your understanding and patience, and I assure you that there WILL be at least one more update before December. I'm hoping to finish this fic before 2017, so I can move back to Life Keeps Goin' On and possibly create a romance-centered fic. Another thing on the agenda is remastering an old TF2 fic from 2013, so watch out for that, as well.
> 
> UPDATE: here's some bonus art from my art blog, where i drew a handful of the characters in this fic 
> 
> http://bardockarts.tumblr.com/post/153372447051/


	18. Birds of a Feather Flock Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's transition completes. Angela and Amelie have a long, hard talk about Liao and the future.

Gabriel was screaming like he was being murdered, bloodcurdling shrieks that Angela could feel in her very soul. 

He was spasming, hips jerking and muscles flexing involuntarily, kicking and shaking. The neural system’s response to too much stimulation, Angela figured. 

She stepped back, allowing nature to take its course. 

The pain would subside as soon as the Reaper fully embedded itself in his body and soul. None of her magic would make this process any faster or make it any less painful. All they could do was wait.

“Did I scream this much?” Amelie managed to look slightly disturbed, shouting to be heard above the sound of Gabriel’s suffering. She had her arms crossed defensively, leaning away from the agonized man on the altar. 

“No. I think it might hurt worse because he’s mortal.” Angela wanted to offer him some comfort, but it would be safer for both of them if she kept her distance. “You didn’t thrash this much, either.” 

“Do you think you might’ve done something wrong?” Amelie looked a touch worried. Angela slung an arm around her waist, both offering and seeking comfort. Amelie was taller than she was, so she rested her head affectionately on the former Mantle’s shoulder. 

“I did it exactly the same way I did when you were chosen as the Mantle.” She assured her. Gabriel’s screaming started to die down, getting hoarser and thinner. Whether it was hurting less or he was losing his voice wasn’t clear. “Nothing I did was wrong. That was how the ceremony has been performed ever since it began.” 

“Did I cry?” Amelie asked, focused on Gabriel instead of Angela. 

“Yes, I think so. You cursed and threatened me. Swore to murder me in ten thousand different ways if I didn’t take the pain away. You cried quite a bit.” 

“And after?” 

Gabriel was gradually petering out- His screams had been replaced with high pitched sobs, tears streaming down the side of his face. His chest spasmed with every breath, struggling to draw air in and push it out whilst crying. His brown eyes had closed, brows drawn together. His struggles had mostly stopped, other than the occasional ( likely involuntary ) jerk at his restraints. 

“You forgot all about it.” 

“How long did I take to recover?” 

Angela pursed her lips, leaning away from Amelie to consider. “You took… A week, less than ten days. But Gabriel and you aren’t on par in that regard. You were a voluntary host. He’s not. His body’s fighting to reject the Reaper, and will try its hardest until the Reaper overpowers any magical or physical defenses he can muster. He’ll take far longer to recover than you did. And I have a suspicion he’s going to fight us every step of the way.”

“Like a bear with its paw caught in a trap.” Amelie sighed and looked away. “Was that selfish, Angela? Forcing him to take the Reaper?” 

“It was due.” Angela gave her shoulder a comforting rub. “The Reaper picked him. He’ll do well.” 

“Even so…” Amelie dragged her gaze back to the sobbing mess on the table. “He looks rather pathetic now, doesn’t he?” 

“Amelie, don’t underestimate him. When he gets a grasp on the Reaper’s powers, he’s going to do his best to escape.” 

Gabriel’s broken sobbing had by now dissolved into hard breathing, with the occasional whimper. His chest was rising and falling steadily, if a touch too quickly, and the previous full-body spasms and ferocious struggling manifested now in only slight shaking. 

“Do you know if Sombra actually prepared the room we asked her to?” Angela asked Amelie. The former Mantle made a slight, disgusted face. 

“Probably not. Should we ask Bastion?” 

“Ah, perfect. Can you go ask him? I’d like to stay with Gabriel. Someone has to.”

Amelie made a noise of agreement, and headed out the door, closing it behind her with a click.

“Gabriel, can you hear me?” Angela asked. There was no reply from him- His eyes were closed, and Angela suspected that even if he was coherent enough to listen he was too exhausted to reply. She ran a comforting hand through his hair, and he didn’t protest. It had been an agonizing ordeal, no doubt, but she also knew that this compliance wouldn’t last.

For the next couple of weeks, keeping Gabriel penned was going to be like trying to keep an adventurous toddler from accidentally hurting themselves. Gabriel would be disoriented, weak, angry, and more than likely try to leave before he had recovered or fully understood his new, unique position as the Reaper. 

In the logs of other helpers, Angela had read just how much of a frustration it was to keep an unwilling, fledgling Mantle in one place. At least Gabriel was human- if he’d been a giant or something similar, keeping him here would’ve been nigh impossible.

She hadn’t stopped stroking his hair, even when his muscles tensed and he wriggled. He made a slight pained noise, his brows momentarily squeezing together as he rode out the momentary agony. 

She assured him, although he could not comprehend her. “Only aftershocks, Gabriel. The bulk of the pain is over.” 

“Hey! Chica!” There came a sharp knock at the door, accompanying Sombra’s lilting, carefree voice. “That whole ceremony done yet?” 

“Yes. Gabriel has been accepted as the Reaper’s new Mantle.” 

“Awesome. Amelie’s still alive, too?”

“Yes.” 

“Alright, even better. Actually, wait, that’s a problem. Didn’t think she’d still be around to yell at me about prepping that room, you know?” 

“Speaking of which, isn’t that what you should be doing?” Mercy shot an irate glance at the door. 

“Don’t worry about it,  _ chica.  _ Bastion covered for me.” 

“You really shouldn’t use him like that.”

“It’s what he’s made for, chill out. His whole purpose is to do stuff for us.”

“Herr Lindholm does not make golems so you can put off responsibility, Sombra. Go help him prepare Gabriel’s room.” Angela barked through the door. There was a sulky silence, then the sound of footsteps gradually meandering away. 

Sombra was nearly _ thirty  _ now and she still acted like a child. Honestly. 

At least she had done well in abducting Gabriel. 

However, Sombra had also made the disturbing claim that he had sought assistance from Overwatch, and she had been forced to suppress both Gabriel and one of the organization’s members. She had claimed it was  _ Liao,  _ one of the founders, which was deeply… Troubling, to say the least. If they were sending top members to protect Gabriel, then he was possibly more important than Angela had ever guessed. It almost made her wish that she still had feelers in the organization...

Ah. 

Angela had been a part of Overwatch once. She had also been close friends with Amelie. Amelie had applied to join Overwatch, but they’d spurned Amelie in favor of her husband. Angela had fought  _ tooth and nail _ to get Amelie accepted, to no avail. Afterwards, Angela had been forced to witness Amelie’s downward spiral, and it hurt to watch her friend slowly wither on the inside from the rejection.

When Amelie had come to her one night, asking if she could become the Reaper, Angela had sworn she would help her at any cost. That cost had ended up including abandoning Overwatch and becoming the right-hand woman of the physical embodiment of evil, as well as countless nights of comforting, advising, and sleepless study to understand her new position and Amelie’s. 

It had been worth it.

She had personal ties to Amelie, of course. It was a bond that could only be forged through trial. Through doubt and comfort and loss and loneliness. 

They didn’t talk about it. Not openly. But there were nights when it got cold and lonely…

Angela shook the thoughts out. Not relevant. 

There was another rap at the door. Angela, hoping it was Amelie, called “Yes?” 

“Gabriel’s room is ready.” It  _ was _ Amelie, thank God. She pushed open the door, peeping in at the two of them. “Is he safe to move?”

“He should be.” Angela reached into the deep folds of her robe to find a key, then unlocked the metal that’d been keeping Gabriel hostage. His skin was red, inflamed, the mark of restraints. Thankfully, he’d be so weak in the following couple of days he wouldn’t need to be held in bondage anymore. Those days would hopefully give Gabriel time to recover and come around to his role as the Reaper. The red marks were a simple matter that likely didn’t require more than rest to heal.

Amelie and Angela carried him together, down the hall and to his room. It wasn’t the designated room of the Reaper, but the place that new Mantles spent their fledgeling days resting after they became the Mantle. Typically they only spent a few days in that room, but Angela had a sneaking suspicion Gabriel would be spending a week and a half or more.

Mortals were so fragile… And stubborn-willed.

The room was fifteen feet by fifteen feet, or somewhere thereabouts, dominated by a king-sized bed. Bastion had freshly laundered the sheets and the blankets, and it looked like he’d even fluffed the pillows. A cute touch- Angela would need to spare words of praise for the golem when she spoke to him next. 

There was a bathroom, closed off from the main room by a door, for simple convenience’s sake. The weakness often experienced by the new Mantles meant they wouldn’t be walking any more than they had to. Keeping a bathroom in the same room instead of, say, down the hallway, proved to be the simplest way to prevent unnecessary exertion. 

Amelie gingerly let go of Gabriel, and she peeled back the covers. With some manhandling, Angela maneuvered Gabriel onto the bed. She pulled the blankets back up to his chin, arranging his arms and legs neatly. 

“ Did Herr Lindholm install the cameras like I asked?” Angela questioned Amelie. Gabriel required even more surveillance than the average fledgeling Mantle. Unwilling hosts had been documented killing or injuring themselves when left unmonitored, and Angela wanted to take no chances. 

“ _ Oui. _ He’s set up monitors in his workshop and in your room.” Amelie seemed distant now- as though she had something on her mind. Her gaze was off into space, away from both Angela and Gabriel. 

“Gabriel is safe and sound for the moment, Amelie.” Angela cleared her throat. “Perhaps… You’d like to take a flight?”

“A flight?” There was some longing, some relief, that colored Amelie’s voice. Her position as Mantle dictated that she remain mostly here, the home of the Reaper and of his servants, Talon. Flights for pleasure were nearly unheard of after Amelie assumed the title of Mantle. “With you,  _ cheri?”  _

“Yes.” Angela said primly. 

“I would love to.” 

They left Gabriel’s room, locking the door behind them. Didn’t want him to wake up and escape while they were gone. 

“I must admit, this isn’t simply to enjoy flying.” Angela coughed. “You looked as though you had something on your mind.”

“Liao.” A grimace. 

“Ah, the… Elephant in the room.” Angela could feel the tips of her feathers prickle. Liao was a tender subject among the guardians of the Reaper. Not just because of Amelie’s rejection from Overwatch, but because she had been a thorn in the side of Talon for…

Hundreds of years. Thousands, if the logs could be believed. She was ancient and powerful, whatever she was. And she had been closely involved with Gabriel. She had been  _ guarding  _ his apartment ever since the Reaper had demanded him as the new Mantle, and Liao’s mere presence had been enough to make the junior members of Talon skittish. 

Angela had been in Overwatch, had worked with Liao for some time, and she hadn’t been able to shake the cold, terrifying aura that Liao radiated in waves. She was thankful she didn’t have the Sight the way some mortals did- What she’d  _ see  _ was undoubtedly scarring. 

“What about Liao?” Angela prompted her. 

“Wait until we’re in the air.” Amelie said, somewhat distant. “I have a conclusion I’ve come to. Where to go from here. What to do with Gabriel.” 

“That’s good. I was a little worried you didn’t have a plan.” Inwardly, Angela breathed a sigh of relief. Amelie had been particularly enigmatic and distant ever since Sombra had delivered Gabriel to them. Even before that, Amelie hadn’t elaborated on what they would do after Gabriel became the Reaper. Angela, personally, thought it was because Amelie doubted she’d survive the ceremony of exchanging Mantles. It hurt a little, to know Amelie thought her chances so slim she hadn’t even bothered to form a plan if she did manage to live. 

“Don’t worry,  _ cheri.  _ I have everything figured out.” A little determined nod put Angela even more at ease. “Come, now. It’s time I  _ finally  _ got out of the house.” 

The ‘house’ was plenty spacious. A mansion in the middle of the Sierra Mountains, maintained by Talon and a staff of golems- but Angela could appreciate the urge to take wing. As big as the estate and the staff may have been, nothing beat wind sliding through your feathers and the ability to admire the green tracts of earth miles below you. Flight was freedom, and Amelie had just been given hers back. 

It was just a quick trip down the stairs and to the front hall. The two people guarding the doors, a pair of Torbjorn’s golems, regarded them respectfully as they passed. They were not stopped, but rather, welcomed out. One of the golems held the door for the pair of them; Angela thanked it, and it gave a short, jerky nod. 

Angela returned her attention to Amelie as they stepped outside. The former Mantle had her eyes closed, head bowed slightly. 

“Shall we go, Amelie?” Angela prompted gently. 

She moved her head slightly, shaking herself out of her thoughts. “Go first, Angela, I’ll be right after you.” 

It was difficult to just jump into flight, even for experienced fliers. Angela preferred jumping off of cliffs, or the top of the mansion, or some of the trees, in order to get a ‘running start’, as it were. Unfortunately, there was no perch for her to jump off of. Fortunately, there was a good stretch of flat, open land in front of the mansion to get a literal running start. It wasn’t as helpful as jumping off of something tall, but a running start did lend some momentum when it came to taking off.

Angela raced across that pathway, leaning towards the ground, wind slicing through her feathers. 

Flight was not weightlessness. She was, perhaps, more aware of gravity whilst flying than she was on the ground. But she defied gravity and launched into flight, wings slicing through the air. She had to struggle with dead air for the moment, but once she got high enough, once she found a thermal…

She dead-flapped for a number of minutes, until she could coast on wind currents. 

Amelie beat her wings nearby, and Angela angled lower to approach her. 

“I forgot what this was like,” Amelie murmured softly. 

“We can fly whenever you want now,” Angela glanced in her direction, gauging her reaction to the prospect. Amelie’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears- joy, she hoped. 

“I know. But let’s move on.” A slight shake of her head- her dark hair streamed in the wind. 

“You said you wanted to talk about Liao?” 

“What to do about her.” 

“It would’ve been more helpful if Sombra had brought both of them instead of just Gabriel.” Angela mused aloud. “We could’ve put a stop to her and had all of this done.” 

“I’m not entirely certain she can be killed.” 

“What?” A sharp glance in Amelie’s direction. 

“I think she’s immortal.”

“What makes you think  _ that?”  _ Angela tried to force down the surprise in her voice- she didn’t want to give the impression that she  _ doubted _ Amelie, but it was most certainly a bold claim to make.

“Now that the Reaper’s gone… I have memories I don’t remember having. It knew her.” 

“The Reaper…  _ Knew  _ her?” 

“They’ve met. I think she’s the Mantle.” 

“That’s impossible. Gabriel is the Mantle- I  _ did  _ the ceremony.” 

“ _ A  _ Mantle.” Amelie amended. “Maybe a former one. Maybe a Mantle of some other spirit. She’s not  _ mortal.  _ I’d call her a goddess, except not quite… Right.” 

“Roadhog had the Sight, and we know he met Liao.” Angela suggested. “So did Gabriel. They would be able to tell us more about what she is. But I don’t understand this claim of- Of  _ immortality.”  _

“It’s just… A  _ feeling  _ I have.” Amelie shook her head. “I can’t explain it, exactly, but the Reaper told me.” 

“I don’t want to be a skeptic, Amelie-” 

“ _ Non!  _ Someone has to doubt me.” The former Mantle shook her head violently. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t know where she is anymore, and we don’t know if she will be a problem. I would rather discuss what we do with Gabriel.” 

“We train him.” Angela said, voice mild. Angela was completely unconvinced that Amelie had wanted to just drop the subject like that, but she didn’t raise an objection. 

“I know. But once he gets a handle on his powers…”

“He’ll run away.” Angela finished.

“A fledgeling Mantle is the most dangerous kind.” Amelie muttered. “He’s going to hurt people.” 

“We have to stop him.” Angela surmised. “It has been Talon’s task to keep the Mantle safe for thousands of years. There have been people like him before. Unwilling humans.” 

“He has friends. A strong force of will.” Amelie looked slightly disturbed. There was a pause, and she beat her wings, angling higher. Angela followed. 

“Our prisoner…” 

“The griffin?”

“Yes, him. You said they were together?” 

“He was the one who attacked me when I tried to bring Gabriel to you. He was in human form when I next encountered Gabriel- I can only assume they were agreeably together. He’s familiar, but I can’t quite place him…” 

“I had thought so. I couldn’t place him until yesterday morning- He’s a member of Overwatch, isn’t he?”

Angela started, wings pausing mid-beat. “You’re right. Jack Morrison… He must be Jack. He was so old, I could hardly tell… But this is… This is good news!” 

“Is it?” Amelie glanced at her.

“He and Gabriel have known each other for two days, at the very least.” Angela reasoned. “If they’re friends… It could be a reason for Gabriel to stay at the mansion. It’s manipulative and quite a gamble, but-” 

“I like it.” 

“I thought you might. We’ll introduce them in a few days- When Gabriel has recovered more.”

“We should interrogate him. The griffin.” 

“For what?” Angela glanced at her. 

“About Liao. He was in Overwatch, correct? At the very least, he _ might  _ be able to confirm my suspicions.”

“I don’t think he’s the kind to break easily, Amelie.” Angela cautioned. “A very… Militaristic man, if I recall correctly.” 

“So was Gerard.” Amelie replied, voice short. The wind seemed colder. “He begged for mercy when I killed him.” 

“I recall.” Angela replied, somewhat uncomfortable. “He may voluntarily divulge information, though. I would suggest talking to him first…” 

“You’re right as always,  _ cheri.”  _

There was a moment of pause. Only the whistling wind and the hypnotic beat of wings could be heard so far above the earth below. 

“Would you like to head back to the ground?” Angela asked quietly. “I need to check on Gabriel.”

“Go ahead.” Amelie murmured, barely audible. Then, louder: “I’ll stay up here, Angela. Go check on him without me.” 

Angela paused a moment, beating her wings steadily, then peeled away from Amelie and gradually flew back to the mansion. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to give myself until the monday after Thanksgiving to post this chapter, but then I realized that I had erroneously claimed I'd be back on the 26th... I've been working on this all week and planned to post it on monday, but because I messed up, I'm posting it two days early! 
> 
> Fun Fact: The original chapter title was 'Powerful Weakness', as a certain scene that will appear in the next chapter was intended to appear in this chapter. But writing for Angela is just... Not fun. And the break was actually a terrible idea, because I was coasting on sheer motivation and force of will to bang out chapters, and I lost it the second I stopped working on the chapters. Woopsie. 
> 
> Fun fact bonus: The implication of this chapter is WidowMercy. I don't ship WidowMercy. At all. I... don't know why I wrote it like this. It just felt right, y'know?
> 
> Fun fact bonus #2: This was my least favorite chapter and the chapter that took the most time to produce. 
> 
> Fun fact bonus #3: By the time you read this, I'll be combing through the old chapters and dusting out the plot holes and mis-continuities- such as Angela referring to the Reaper as 'He', and literally everything Widowmaker says before her second appearance. 
> 
> Fun fact bonus #4: here's some art to accompany this chapter and a following chapter- so sliiiight spoilers ;) http://bardockarts.tumblr.com/post/153714691436/
> 
> shoutout to all of ya'll for still reading and stuff! next chapter probably due monday or tuesday!


	19. The Thought of Rot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel wakes up to discover something is wrong with his body- Angela attempts to explain and console, and Gabriel's Sight takes a more detailed turn.

When Gabriel woke up, he dully acknowledged that he was still alive. 

He hadn't been so sure he would be waking up again after he succumbed to the agony he’d been forced to endure yesterday. Letting go like that, realizing he could lose his life, had been just about the most terrifying thing in the world.

His head pounded, making him uncomfortably aware of his sluggish pulse. 

He was lying somewhere soft, neck elevated by pillows. He didn't hurt anymore, thank God, but there were tickles of sensation across his hands every so often. Like someone was letting a really tiny mouse scurry up and down them. His mouth was dry, lips cracked, and his throat was hoarse and thick. He would've assessed this as a sore throat or oncoming sickness had it not been for the agonized screaming yesterday. 

Sore throat or no, he still  _ felt _ sick. Gut-churning nausea, throbbing in his head, a greasy, unclean feeling that made him feel a desperate need for a shower. Sick. The Reaper’s fault?

Right. The Reaper. Big elephant there. 

He guessed he was the Reaper now. 

He was somewhat thankful that the acknowledgement didn't have enough punch behind it to make him feel anything. Gabriel supposed he had always known that this was coming. He had been bracing for it this entire week, and subconsciously, for at least two years. It had been an inevitability; despite the pretense of protecting Gabriel, there had never been a chance he wouldn't become the Mantle.

That was a depressing thought. He should try something more proactive… 

Escape was the first thing that jumped to mind.

Escape… He liked the sound of that. And now that he was the Reaper, they didn't have any reason to kidnap him anymore, did they? He was their boss now, too- the newly christened figurehead of this spooky cult. Would they listen to him if he told them to fuck off? Maybe. Probably not. 

He shifted on the bed cautiously. His hands flared up with sudden pain, like pins being inserted through his skin. Bile washed the back of his throat, and he had to reflexively swallow. His stomach protested pathetically, increasing his nausea tenfold. He squeezed his eyes shut and lay back, holding still and trying to breathe without vomiting. Okay. Looked like escape would have to wait. He should focus on the room.

He peeled open his eyes reluctantly, forcing himself to ignore how his vision was swimming. 

The room was small, relatively speaking. A stone floor, stone walls, like he was in an old castle or something. There was a rug in front of his bed, soft-looking and red in color. The room was sparsely decorated, with a tall bookshelf bearing only a handful of leatherbound journals and a couple battered paperbacks. No windows, but a flourescent light buzzing overhead faintly. The blankets were soft and warm, recently washed, if the laundry-fresh smell was anything to go by. There was a shelf with a small vase, bearing some soft, sweet-smelling herbs. There was a door to his far left, heavy and wooden. To his right, another door, tightly shut. 

He breathed out deeply. Closed his eyes again. None of his helped him much. He’d have to think of a plan…

Moving slowly obviously made him just feel worse. Maybe moving quickly…? 

God, he hoped he didn’t have permanent damage. He was almost scared to look at his hands.

_ Focus. Escape now, hands later.  _

He moved his left hand, eyes closed and breathing steady. Tiny spikes of pain pricked all up his fingers and palm. He ignored it, simultaneously suppressing the bile rising in his throat and the sudden dizzy sickness. He removed the covers, laying himself bare to the chill of the room… He was still wearing his flimsy little robe from the ceremony. 

He thought the room would be a lot less drafty, but goosebumps had formed in response to the chill and he was struck with a sudden onset of violent shivering. 

Why the hell did  _ everything  _ in this goddamn place have to make him feel so _ miserable?  _ They couldn’t shell out a couple hundred bucks for heating to keep the subject of their cult warm? 

Gabriel, weak and disgruntled, shifted on the bed. Swinging himself to his feet instantly was probably not the best idea, but if he had to slowly sit up and move, it was going to be hell on his body and on his hands. 

His hands. He almost didn’t want to look… But what was the worst that could happen? How bad could they be? 

He raised his hands up to look at them, holding in a breath. 

There were  _ holes.  _ All over his  _ hands.  _ Opening and closing, like they were rotting and healing simultaneously. He had to hold in a sudden scream of surprise, turning it into a choked gasp that made a stab of pain tear through his throat. He moved his hands with a sense of shocked detatchment, watching as a clump of his index finger rotted to reveal shiny white bone, only to repair itself with healthy skin. He was  _ incredibly  _ thankful that his disgust with himself was disassociated, or else he’d be gibbering and shrieking right now at what was happening to him.

“What the hell,” He croaked aloud. His throat cried in protest at the use, and he sounded like he hadn’t spoken in three years. “What the hell.” 

Had to be some kind of Reaper thing. 

Was the rest of him doing this? Was his  _ face  _ doing this? 

He had a sudden morbid urge to see a mirror, even though the thought of his  _ face  _ doing this sent disgust and fear rippling through him in equal measure. 

He wrenched his gaze away from his hands, trying to breathe steady. He’d cross that bridge when he’d get there. Amelie hadn’t been rotting away like some kind of zombie- There had to be a way to control it, to stop it. Or it might’ve been some symptom of newly becoming the Reaper. It might not be permanent. God, it  _ had  _ to be not permanent. He was  _ freaking out.  _

“I’m fine.” Gabriel wheezed aloud, trying and failing to convince himself. Fuck. “I’m fine. Fuck.” 

Liao could help him- Liao  _ had  _ to know how to help. Or Ana. Ana might know, too. She was a healer. She could fix him. Maybe not get rid of the Reaper, but stop the constant destroying of his body and subsequent healing. It was, as quite the understatement,  _ distressing  _ to watch his skin rot. 

Had to escape. 

He tried to get out of bed, but it went less than stellar. Nausea ripped through him like fire in his belly, following his innards up to his throat. His legs gave out the second he tried to hold his weight on them, and he collapsed onto all fours. His knees and palms flared with pain from the awkward landing, and he was decently certain he’d scraped them all on the stone floor. That was the least of his worries, though- He had just about a second to breathe before he started vomiting. 

He heaved, his throat raw and agonized from screaming and aggravated by the acid sliding through it. He vomited up a thick, tar-like black goo he had no name for. He had about a second to stare at it in horror before another convulsion seized his abdomen and he threw up again. It was more runny, stomach acid and drool mingling to give it an even more disgusting appearance. 

The nausea had gone along with the ejection of  _ whatever the hell  _ the black goop was, which was nice. But now his head was pounding painfully, his throat burned, and he had come down with tremors so terrible that he could hardly move his rotting hands. 

Today was turning out to be a really shitty day.

He debated if it was actually worth it to try to get to the door and escape, or if he should climb back into bed. He wasn’t going to be going anywhere quickly in this kind of state, and even if he  _ did  _ manage to evade Talon, Christ knew where he  _ was.  _

Fortunately ( or, perhaps,  _ unfortunately )  _ he never had to made that choice. Angela barged in, slamming the door behind her and kneeling beside him.

“Mr.  _ Reyes,  _ I insist you get back into bed.” Her pretty, delicate features were twisted in concern. “You shouldn’t be up yet, you’re still sick.” 

“Sick,” He spat, hatred flaring through him like the rekindling of a star.

“Yes.” She bore his rage unflinchingly. “Your body’s fighting the Reaper. The usual symptoms are weakness, tremors, nausea, headache, sneezing, coughing, black fluid dripping from the nose, eyes, mouth, ears, urethra, rectum- All documented in some of the logs of the other helpers. You should be over it in a few days-” 

“My HANDS are ROTTING.” Gabriel barked, curling his fists. His head pounded harder, more painfully. 

“Let me see.” Angela reached out, offering to take his hand. He stared at her delicate, slender fingers, indecisive.

She could hardly make it worse. 

“I don’t bite, Gabriel. I’m a doctor. Let me see your hands.”

She might know what was wrong. How to fix it. She had been Amelie’s advisor, right? But she was also the one who had done this to him in the first place. He glared up at her, face suggesting all the scorn he couldn’t put into words. 

“Stubbornness isn’t going to get you anywhere.” Angela told him, a frown on her face. “I’m trying to help you.” 

Cold silence from Gabriel.

Her thin, delicate little fingers took his big hand in her own. He did not wrench his hand away or spit at her, but glared mutely at the ground. Her tiny little fingers gliding over his skin tickled, just a little bit. 

“This is normal. Amelie had it on her feet, and it’s been documented on the face and there are rare full-body cases. It should go away in a while. Your body’s just trying to adapt to being occupied by another being.” She breatehd a soft sigh of relief. “Everything you’re going through is typical- your transition to the Reaper is not abnormal.” 

There was a short silence between the two of them.

Gabriel jerked his hand away. 

“I hate you.” He told her. 

“I know.” She responded. 

“When I find Liao, she and I are going to-” 

“Liao? What do you need Liao for?” Angela interrupted him gently. “You are the  _ Reaper,  _ Gabriel. You’re one of the strongest non-deity entities on the planet. If you want me dead, you can kill me yourself, can’t you?” 

Another uncomfortable, stifling silence.

“Is there something  _ wrong,  _ Gabriel?” Angela’s voice bordered on too sweet to not know the conflict running through his head. “Tell me you’d kill me, Gabriel. Tell me you don’t need  _ Liao  _ to do it for you.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You hate me,” Angela reminded him. As if he’d forgotten! “You want to see me dead. But you don’t want to do it.” 

“I  _ said,  _ shut  _ up.”  _

“Are you a killer, Gabriel?” 

“Yes!” He spat. 

“No, you’re not.” Sympathy colored her voice, and he hated it. “If you were a killer, you would’ve shot me in the head and not in the stomach.” 

Gabriel exhaled deeply.

“Do you think you’re a bad person, Gabriel?” 

“Stop. You don’t get to- to  _ psychoanalyze  _ me like this.” 

“Are you a bad  _ person,  _ Gabriel?” 

“Yes? No- I-” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Stop asking.” 

Disappointment registered on Angela’s face. “Very well. How are you feeling?” 

Gabriel stared at her for a moment, disbelieving that she didn’t have a clue and relieved she’d dropped the previous subject. “How the  _ hell  _ do you think?” 

“I want to hear it from you.” 

“Throat hurts. Head hurts. Hands hurt. I’m shaking like a leaf. The fuck do you think?” 

“All of that’s understandable.” Angela murmured. “No pain around the wrists or ankles?” 

“Wh- No.” 

“Dizziness?” 

“Nauseated until I threw up.” Gabriel’s voice grew guarded. 

“I know you want to ask, but you’re scared of looking foolish. The substance you threw up is a small amount of shredded tissue- your body’s attempt at expunging the Reaper.” 

“Shredded tis… Don’t I need that?” 

“If you did, you wouldn’t be speaking with me.” Angela replied pleasantly. “Is there anything you need?” 

“I want to go home.” 

“No.” 

“But-” Gabriel objected immediately.

“Not yet.” Angela corrected. “Your task is to stay here and learn what your new position means. What your powers are. Teleportation. Dissolving into mist. Consuming souls. Superhuman strength, durability, reflexes. Regeneration. I can’t put you out in the world without teaching you about yourself.”

Gabriel’s head swam. His foggy brain tried to put all of those into perspective… A lot of those powerups sounded pretty  _ good  _ to him. 

“My… New position. What does that mean, exactly?” 

“The Reaper takes many roles.” Angela shook her head. “What you need to know now is that you have  _ international  _ importance. You are incredibly powerful, and people are going to seek your power.”

“How?” Gabriel asked weakly. This was a lot of information  _ very  _ quickly.

“If a massive clan of werewolves has a territory dispute with another massive clan, they may call you to intervene and diffuse tensions. If it pleases you, you can reap the souls of those you disagree with. The Reaper typically intervenes only with large disputes that would cause a great number of deaths. In essential, you are an incredibly respected diplomat that eats the souls of people who disagree with you.” 

“Jesus.” Gabriel whispered. He shook his head slightly. Bad decision- there was a sharp stab of pain through his temples, and he had to hold back a wince.

“As of right now, you are incredibly weak… The typical Reaper is exempt from any duties for a month or two while they get a handle on their powers.” Angela said, sympathetically. “In all this, Amelie and I will be your guides. There are some that will take your innocence and ignorance and manipulate you into something you may not want to do. We will be there to keep that from happening.” 

“Say I  _ don’t  _ want to do deal with everyone else’s problems,” Gabriel seethed. “What happens?” 

“We can’t force you into anything, but it would keep the peace better. Amelie has been  _ shirking  _ her duties as well-” Annoyance fluttered over Angela’s face. “- And the entire world is suffering for it.” 

A pause, and Gabriel closed his eyes, breathing deep.

_ Deal with the hand you’ve been dealt.  _

“I’m cold.” 

Angela cocked her head. 

“It’s cold in here.” 

“Oh! Yes. I should ask Torbjorn to build a heater.” Angela covered her mouth with her hands, slightly abashed. “Is there anything else? Hungry, thirsty, needing to relieve yourself, wanting a bath-” 

“Help me back into bed and go away.” Gabriel muttered. She looked a bit crestfallen at the notion, but she shook her head and helped him back in. She tucked him in almost embarrassingly thoroughly, and he didn’t have the energy to fight her fussing. She left without needing to be told so, and Gabriel reflected on his situation. 

_ Hand you’ve been dealt.  _

He  _ did  _ hate her. A lot, in fact. But it was really, really hard to hate somebody who was so sympathetic. 

It was also really hard to be bitter. His old life sucked. No nicer way to put it than that. 

He missed Jack, though. And Ana. And Hanzo and Mei and Liao and-

_ Oh come ON, you little BITCH. Keep it together.  _

He felt lost, now.

He had been gearing up for a life with Liao. The chance to recover and grow adjusted to his Sight, to eventually reclaim his job as an officer. 

Now he’d been given the job of Reaper for life, it looked like. 

It wasn’t  _ fair.  _

He had some shitty dreams in his past before- Some terrible, awful dreams, and when he woke up, there had been such a sense of satisfaction and relief… 

He was hoping this had all been a dream, but God dammit, of course it wasn’t a  _ dream.  _ That’d be too easy for him, wouldn’t it?

He looked back at his hands, at his case of pseudo-necrosis. It was almost hypnotising to watch, even if it made his guts twist in disgust and discomfort. Something about death and life. Some symbolism bullshit, hell if he knew. 

He had to force his gaze away. Even though he was a bedridden lump, chained by weakness and pain, he had a boost on the average mortal man.

He opened his Sight. 

He could feel Angela waiting outside the door. Sterile needles. The scent of aloe. Motherly concern. Broken glass held together by duct-tape and glue. Soft bandages. Bloodstained feathers. The distinct feeling of sacrifice and self-suppression. Something he hadn’t detected before- a lick of something faint and greasy. When he attempted to pursue the feeling, he found none left to pursue. A dead end that had felt suspiciously like  _ Liao.  _ Had they met? 

In several positions nearby, there was something that felt exactly the same, like clones or copies or  _ something.  _ Hardened rock, the mystical whirl of magic, a typhoon in a glass bottle. Obedience, obsidian, gravel and lava. The smoke of a forge, pumping bellows, a jerking, screeching start and emergence from a cold nothing into red-hot life. Gabriel hadn’t the faintest idea what they could be. 

Somewhere far below him, there was a distant pull of another creature. Bad-tempered, hot-blooded. The coughing of smoke in the lungs, the sting of it in the eyes, blistering heat. The clang of metal on metal, pride and strength in equal measure. The muscle of a wild bull, forged and honed to perfect craftsmanship, whispering the breath of life into unyielding rock and clay. 

His Sight was much more  _ perceptive  _ than Gabriel remembered. Reaper’s influence? Or the product of being near new mythical creatures? Angela had mentioned that being the Reaper would grant him Sight… Maybe this was what fully-developed Sight was like? Did Roadhog see this  _ all  _ the time?

Gabriel wondered, not for the first time, what he would look like. He couldn’t see himself in the Sight. 

Something was rapidly approaching at a quick pace, and he attempted to pinpoint it- It was several dozen yards away and had registered as a pinprick on the range of his ability. As it drew closer, though, he got a clearer picture.

A lurking greasiness that he had come to associate with Liao- He thought it  _ was  _ Liao for a minute, but that greasiness had never been so upfront or so weak. Underneath, he found corvid feathers and manacured talons. Slight illness. Doubt. An immaculately spun web of lies and truths, capturing prey and sticking family together. And like a lake of fire underneath,  _ anger.  _ Bitterness at rejection, clenched jaws and fists and angry words. There was the slight impression of softness, buried even underneath that. Affection that had been locked far enough away that only his Sight could just barely reach it. 

That must’ve been Amelie, the former Reaper. 

If that  _ greasiness  _ was a sign of the Reaper, then what had it been doing all over  _ Liao? _

The question was… Disturbing at best. 

He turned his Sight elsewhere- There were three more beings in this place of note. He could’ve sworn that Jack and Liao had claimed that the Reaper’s cult numbered hundreds of members, but other than the two-dozen or so rock-creatures, there was very few people here. 

Angela, Amelie, the thing that must’ve been the creator of the rock-creatures, and the three stray souls he hadn’t placed yet. 

He shifted on the bed, attempting to turn his Sight on them, but it withered, blinking like a flashlight with a bad battery.

“You don’t get to quit on me,” Gabriel muttered to himself. He shook his head ( ow ) but it didn’t get any better. Maybe shaking his head wasn’t the equivalent of jiggling the battery. “Come on-” 

His Sight flickered and collapsed, because inconvenience seems to be the name of Gabriel’s game. He groaned in frustration, trying to pull it back open. Roadhog hadn’t  _ covered  _ the Sight randomly crapping out on him. 

Maybe he was making leaps too fast, using up too much energy.

He caught stifled, fragmented impressions. 

A craggy, snow-ridden mountain range he had no name for. Strange, chiming music he couldn’t recall. 

The curl of a wing over a helpless body, a feathered shield. Nobility and strength, a bellow that could shatter mountains and turn back tides.

The brush of fingers over keyboards. An alluring trill, draped in purple. 

His Sight snapped shut and he cursed loud enough for Angela to open the door a crack.

“No!” Gabriel barked at her before she could say anything. 

“I want to know if you’re having probl-” 

“Yes, I am, go away!” 

There was a pause. Gabriel glaring, Angela staring. 

“You should rest.” 

“I  _ have  _ been resting,” Gabriel shot back. 

“You should rest more. It’s a draining process.” A pause. “I’ll come back with food-” 

“I’m not going to eat anything you give me.” 

Angela’s brows furrowed. “Don’t make me force you. If you aren’t going to eat, I could always do intravenous nourishment…” 

Gabriel scowled. 

“That’s what I thought.” She shook her head. “Gabriel, this is a tough pill to swallow, I know. But you should be resting.” 

“What do  _ you  _ call lying in bed and doing nothing?” 

She stood up taller. “I call it you  _ practicing your powers _ when you’re at the most critical, vulnerable stage, and should be sleeping through the Reaper overpowering your body.” 

“Overpowering my-” 

“Good _ night,  _ Gabriel.” Angela shut the door with a click- a few moments later, the flourescent light overhead flicked off, leaving Gabriel alone in the dark.

Bitch. 

He did close his eyes, though. Breathed in and out deeply. Maybe his Sight just needed a moment to recharge… 

He fell asleep. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doctor who is that


	20. Bits and Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela soothes some of Gabriel's pain, Amelie explains a little about his new position, and Gabriel meets a stranger and someone painfully familiar.

Yet again, Gabriel woke up to feeling absolutely like garbage.

A dull throb in his temples, a new pain in his lungs that he’d never experienced, and a fascinating combination of hunger and nausea that made him want to throw up and eat at the same time. The pain in his lungs felt vaguely like they were clogged with dust, and when he breathed harder his chest heaved unpleasantly and sent a stabbing pain through his ribs. 

Looks like a new fresh pain was to await him every day. Great. 

Angela was sitting on a chair nearby- She must’ve brought it in with her, because he didn’t remember this room having a chair in it. She was wearing little tawny glasses, a book in her slender hands. A candle floated nearby in a levitating candle holder, casting faint light for her to read by. Had he been naive little Gabriel from a week ago, he would’ve freaked out at that, but it barely even registered as abnormal. 

She looked up at him and removed her glasses, folding the frame and putting them and the book aside. She had doffed the usual sweatshorts and shirt she typically wore, and had taken on a short, stylish red dress that barely went down to her knees. Its neckline was…  _ generous,  _ not exactly concealing very much, and it certainly accentuated her natural features. 

“Good morning.” 

“It’s not morning, is it?” He rasped. 

“It’s two AM.” She provided. “Technically, morning.” 

Not the worst time to have woken up, but not exactly ideal. He decided to complain instead of continue to argue. “My chest hurts.” 

“I can help the pain, if you’d like.” 

Gabriel’s pride had already run away like a dog with its tail between its legs. No point in keeping up the pretense of pride or keep hurting just for the sake of being stubborn. 

He could recognize when he was beat. 

“Yeah.” He looked up at the ceiling. There was a quiet creak as Angela left her chair, the scuff of her nails on stone as she drew closer. Her fingers trailed down his chest and he shivered unpleasantly. 

Her hands radiated something soft and warm, a tender golden light that she directed over his chest. It took a large fraction of the nausea and pain along with it, forcing out a soft groan of relief from him. 

She gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, fingers dancing over his chest. Loosing his muscles, freeing him from the thing cloying his lungs and the pain in his head. She shifted again, getting up and lightly removing the covers. 

Gabriel’s attention momentarily turned to his chest and belly. His old scars- either accidents, criminals, or surgery- were raised, much more vivid than they had been before. And oddly enough, they were  _ jet-black,  _ oozing a soft smoke that seemed to dissipate after it drifted further than an inch from his skin. He moved to touch, but Angela firmly took one of his hands and laid it down. 

The smooth pads of her fingers traced scars, the vividness and smoke starting to wane in the wake of her touch. “How did you get these, Mr. Reyes? Are they new?” 

“No, they’re old… Old scars.” He regarded them uncertainly. He opened his mouth to question her, but she anticipated it.

“Before you ask, they’re supposed to look like that, Mr. Reyes. The Reaper is healing them for you.” 

“They look worse.” 

“Physically, not cosmetically.” Angela amended. Her fingers moved from a jagged gash that’d been an unfortunate encounter with a boxcutter, and smoke immediately started wisping out of it. “Think of this as… As swelling. It’s not dangerous, and it’ll go down in a couple days. Amelie had a few scars that did this, too.” 

She cleared her throat and drew her hands away, pulling the covers back over him. He felt significantly better than he had when he woke up. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Angela suggested almost innocently. Gabriel flicked his gaze up to her, wary.

“I’m going to send someone to get breakfast, Gabriel. While we’re waiting, I want you to tell me how you’re doing.” 

“Not much different than yesterday.” He said, disgruntled. “I want to go home. Do my  _ job.”  _

“You have a new job.” Angela consoled him gently. 

“That I have to do until I  _ die.”  _ Gabriel sat up, ignoring the protesting throb in his lungs and head. “I didn’t  _ ask  _ for-” 

His throat tickled, and fresh agony stabbed from his lungs- He coughed, reflexively, and it opened the floodgates for a massive coughing fit that wracked his entire body. Angela quickly got up off the side of the bed, grabbing a package of tissues and a bucket from beside the bookshelf.

Gabriel coughed up spurts of watery black fluid, accompany by jelly-like chunks- Angela fussed over him, insisting he cough into her bucket and wiping his chin in-between spurts of lung-spasming coughing. 

“Are you okay, Gabriel?” She gently rubbed his back and he bitterly coughed in her direction, although none of the odd fluid was produced. “Don’t talk. It’s going to hurt. Let me get you some water first.” 

Gabriel was tempted to tell her about how much he absolutely loathed her and this treatment, but he said nothing. She was right. Like usual. 

At the very least, his chest hurt a lot less. That  _ clogged  _ sensation was gone, so he could breathe easier, at the sacrifice of his damaged throat. 

Angela disappeared for about a minute, then came back with a glass. She handed it to him, checking that he could hold it before she let go. His rotting hands made it a challenge to keep a steady grip- When one of his fingers waned down to the bone, he had to adjust his hold on the cup to make sure he didn’t accidentally drop or spill it. 

It was water. Simple, but good. He slurped the damn thing down, and it managed to slim down some of the hunger by bloating his stomach out with liquid. Still hungry, though...

Angela returned to her chair. “Amelie will join us soon.” 

“Why?” 

“To talk to you about being the Reaper. She has a unique perspective- She’s the only former Mantle that’s still alive, and I’m sure she’ll have wonderful insight.” Angela looks off into the distance, almost dreamily. 

Uck. He’d seen that look  _ and  _ heard that voice. Winston looked and sounded exactly like that when he was talking about Athena. 

They waited in silence, Gabriel nearly nodding off a couple times, until a knock came at the door. Angela opened it, and a…  _ Creature  _ of sorts wandered in. 

It looked to be entirely made out of rock. Floating rock, too, arranged roughly in a humanoid shape. It had flat stones as feet, a heavy gait, and a massive boulder-sized chest that should not have been supported by its relatively short legs. The thing looked sturdy, but with that chest, also looked like it could topple over if you pushed it hard enough. It had massive shoulders, a small rock as its head. Light glinted along through its joints, miniature orange fires stringing its body together. Magic, maybe? It seemed to be what was animating the rocks. 

It was carrying a tray of breakfast food. 

“What the hell  _ is  _ that thing?” Gabriel blurted. 

“A golem.” Angela provided readily. “Torbjorn, the dwarf downstairs, makes them. We have a wait staff of-” 

“There’s twenty-six of them.” Gabriel recalled from his Sight yesterday. 

“How did- Ah, your Sight.” Angela looked troubled for a minute, but it passed by so quickly that Gabriel wondered if he’d imagined it. “Go ahead and eat, Gabriel.” 

The golem lumbered over with slow, plodding steps. Its legs were multi-joined, like a dog or a bird rather than a human. 

It knelt slightly, holding the tray out at the perfect height for Gabriel to not have to get up to reach. 

A glass of orange juice. A bowl of freshly sliced fruit- Bananas, pears, grapes, apples. Sausages. Eggs, already seasoned. Steaming, home-cooked waffles, butter just barely melting, syrup nestling comfortably in the waffles’ divots. Gabriel ate the fruit in bed, particularly inclined towards the grapes. Not a mushy one in the number, though the pears tasted kind of sharp and strangely crisp. Maybe it was because he had only ever had the shitty canned pears you got at Wal-Mart. 

He sat up to eat the eggs, ignoring the primal urge to start shoveling food into his mouth with his hands. 

The waffles were crunchy on the outside and soft and fluffy inside. Better than any other waffles he’d ever had, although his waffle diet consisted of solely the frozen kind you popped in the toaster for a couple minutes. 

He cleared his plate and drank his juice. He wasn’t exactly sure if the golem could understand him, but he awkwardly told it “thank you”. 

“That’s all for now.” Angela told it, patting its rocky shoulder. It chirped happily ( Gabriel had no idea how the hell it made noise ) and lumbered out, closing the door behind itself. 

Right on its heels is Amelie, who entered as it left. She was dressed in a fuzzy white bathrobe, the rest of her bare. She had talons like Angela, but they were smaller and much more like clawed human toes than a raptor’s foot- explained how she could actually wear shoes. 

“It is  _ three  _ in the morning, what is the  _ matter?”  _ Amelie complained. 

“Gabriel is awake,” Angela said pleasantly. 

“I can see,” She replied dryly. 

“I thought that perhaps now was the time for you to assist him.”

“This couldn’t have waited until morning?” 

“It is morning.” 

“You know what I mean,” Amelie said, flickers of irritation making her feathers prickle. She marched up to Gabriel, who had gotten half-way out of bed. “What do you need?” 

A shrug. Angela had been the one to call Amelie, not him. 

“I think you should teach him how to use at least one of his powers. If nothing, to give him something to practice while he tries to recover.” Angela suggested.

“He looks recovered to me.” 

“He’s still coughing up and vomiting tissue. You stopped doing that after the first day.” Angela corrected. “And look at his hands…” 

Amelie attempted to get a look, and he tucked them under the blanket self-consciously. She, very impatiently, slapped the side of Gabriel’s head hard enough for him to see stars.

Anger swept over him, blind fury His hands came down around her throat, jerking her forward so they were nose to nose. She didn’t so much as flinch when he snarled in her face. 

“What the _ fuck!?”  _ An incredulous demand, supercharged with rage. “You have some fucking  _ nerve-”  _

“Mr. Reyes, you’re smoking.” Amelie was the perfect picture of clipped composure, and he had a primal urge to  _ break  _ that calm expression. 

“What the hell is  _ that-”  _

“Mr. Reyes, she means it literally.” Angela piped up timidly from where she was sitting. 

He ripped his eyes away from Amelie, sweeping them down the length of his forearm. His skin had started to sizzle, like steam during a hot bath. Instead of the translucent white of steam, though, it was a roiling purple-black, akin to the curling wisps off of his scars. 

He let Amelie go, his heart twisting in surprise and fear. “What the hell-”

“A Mantle can dissolve into smoke or mist.” Amelie responded primly, brushing off the front of her bathrobe. “Like a sentient cloud.”

“Okay, but why did you have to  _ hit  _ me?” Gabriel was pretty sure his jaw was going to bruise. 

“Because, like most mortals gifted magic, your emotions are the easiest way to stir up your power.” Amelie looked unsympathetic. “We’re going to teach you your own strength.”

“You mean you don’t know?” 

“Some people are more powerful with the Reaper’s talents than others. For example: I could not teleport. At all. Some can teleport anyplace they can see. Some can teleport anyplace in the world, even if they’ve never been there.” 

“What if I can’t do anything?” How pathetic was it that his first thought was he’d be useless at his job? He had long since learned to tamp down anxious feelings of uselessness when he became an officer. Some shrink could tell you it was the result of a broken home and repression thereafter, and would probably prescribe some kind of therapy for that plus all the magic shit he’d been put through. Really, though, he only cared about the answer to the question.

“A mediocre Mantle is still the Reaper.” Angela consoled him. “You carry the title, which is enough for most. But I don’t think you  _ can’t  _ have at least  _ some  _ of the Reaper’s abilities. It’s never been documented for a Mantle to not have at least  _ some  _ of the Reaper’s own power, and I highly doubt you’re the exception. Thus far, you’ve been a textbook case as a human host progressing to a full-blown Mantle.”

Gabriel shifted slightly. “What’s the difference between the Reaper and the Mantle? Or the Mantle and the host?” 

Angela looked delighted at the prospect of explaining. “The Reaper, in itself, is an entity. It cannot exist without a mortal host.” 

Gabriel attempted to snap his fingers to get her attention, but the bare phalange that used to be his thumb didn't exactly make a good snapping noise. “I was wondering about that, too. Does mortal just mean human?”

“If she meant human, I could not be the Mantle.” Amelie cuffed the back of his head, though much gentler than the blow from before. “Keep up. Mortal means non-deities, usually, but supernatural creatures sometimes use the term for humans. Eternal beings, such as fae and vampires, are the ones who use such language.” 

Gabriel's head swam. He wasn't stupid by any means, but his head hurt and this was a lot to process. “What's the difference between eternal and immortal?”

“Eternal creatures don't age. Without being killed by someone, they don't die. Immortals can't die. No matter what.” Amelie clarified. “I've never met an immortal. Most of them are gods.”

“Gods? Plural?” Gabriel checked. 

“And goddesses.” Angela added gently. “But the pantheon of known gods isn't important for you- even if you anger a god, the Reaper is exempt from torture, enslavement, murder-”

“We’re off topic.” Amelie grumbled. “The Reaper is an entity requiring a host. You are the host. Mantle and host are interchangeable terms.” 

“Then why do you call me the Reaper?” 

“Because your body is its source of nourishment, it's home. It's abilities are at your beck and call, and you embody all that the Reaper is as its Mantle. You are, for all purposes, the Reaper.” 

Gabriel stored away the information he thought he needed the most. The offhand comments about gods concerned him the most- it brought to mind religious and philosophical conundrums he seriously did not want to contemplate. He was no Plato or Aristotle or anything of the kind. 

Apparently he was some kind of dark, evil entity, though. He’d go with that. 

“Is that everything?” Amelie checked. “I don't want to be up before the sun any longer than I have to.” 

“I would suggest we all get more sleep.” Angela rose delicately from her chair. “Gabriel, I'll be back in a few hours to talk with you more. For now, try to get more rest. It’ll acclimate you faster and spare you the brunt of unpleasantness from the Reaper’s transformation.” 

Gabriel wasn't going to protest at being left alone. 

Amelie left- Angela turned off the light with a soft “goodnight”, and the two shuffled down the hall. 

Gabriel opened his Sight as they left- The three presences he’d sensed before were still somewhere within a couple dozen yards, and he was  _ curious  _ what they were after his Sight had crapped out on him the day before.

He tried the closest. 

Good-naturedness, barely hiding sinister selfishness. Purple. Freezing aerosol, the choking scent of dust from wheezing old computer fans. A faint glimmer he could only assess as  _ magic.  _ Deftness of fingers- keys, of a keyboard and piano, swift and knowledgeable. Delight in other’s misfortune. A lingering aftertaste of something spicy- the distinct feeling of deception. Manila folders and the coo of “what do we have here?”. Intellectual superiority. Rising to a challenge. 

Gabriel was pretty sure he didn’t know anyone like that, but it matched up to one of the people from yesterday. He tried the next closest. 

Freezing mountains. Whipping ice and snow. The stillness of an undisturbed pool of water. The soft chirping of birds. Sandalwood incense. Stillness. Silence. Peace. 

He attempted to probe further, but found himself unable. The flickers he’d been able to get quietly closed off from his Sight. He could tell there was a person, but not See them. Gabriel attempted to push past the barriers that’d been formed, but was met with quiet resistance, powerful and unyielding but void of anger. When he continued to strain, he  _ did  _ manage to get something.

_ I am not for you to peruse.  _ A quiet, studious voice, paradoxically gentle but firm.  _ It is rude to peep without permission.  _

Gabriel had no idea how to respond- if he even could. 

_ Do not try to See me again. I do not want to have to do something drastic.  _ Infuriatingly apologetic.  _ I understand if you find yourself bored, but do not pry into others for entertainment. _

And he was kicked out. 

That was the best way to describe it- Someone  _ else  _ closed his Sight, and it was jarring enough for him to hiss a curse and have to massage his temples with his necrotic hands. 

Well, that threw a wrench into just about  _ everything.  _ The more he learned about his stupid Sight the more useless it became.

Gabriel’d be damned if he let some weird voice dictate everything he did. He reopened his Sight, carefully skipping over that particular person and moving to the third and final. 

Something warm and comfortable- rays of sunshine. The scent of gunpowder, slightly muted. Muscle and intelligence in equal measure. Blue and white- clouds and the open sky. Age and experience- experienced hands. Handgun magazines, reloading a rifle, gun oil and sweat staining fingers, feathers, and fur. The coppery taste of blood. A broad chest. Warmth and comfort that made Gabriel  _ ache.  _ A longing for something painfully familiar that he was sure he’d never had. 

He closed his Sight forcefully, throwing the blankets off himself. 

He  _ knew  _ them.

He  _ knew  _ exactly who that was.

Jack. 

Jack… Still alive? 

Should’ve known it’d take more than a bullet to put that bastard down. 

He snickered softly to himself, but it went from snickering to  _ giggling,  _ then  _ giggling  _ to  _ laughing,  _ then  _ laughing  _ to  _ howling.  _ Uncontrollable, full-bodied  _ howling, _ bouncing off the ceiling and echoing in his room. Something had snapped in him when he realized Jack was alive-  _ Reality _ had abruptly slammed down on his head, and he had no idea how to process it.

So he laughed. 

He laughed until his laughs subsided into sobs, and he was left alone on his bed in the dark, hugging his knees for comfort and gasping for breath. 

He was so fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Originally, the scene of healing between Angela and Gabriel was far more risqué, borderlining on molestation or outright rape. Based on the characters that I've written, I decided Angela wouldn't take advantage of him like that and it wasn't the direction that I wanted to go with their relationship or their characters. Plus, I don't want the rating to go past teen. 
> 
> Fun fact 2: This chapter was originally called "Chapter 20: they do stuff". 
> 
> Fun fact 3: if you want to request drabbles, either for this series or as a one-off, I can be reached at legendary-bard.tumblr.com! i'm open for just about anything SFW! :O


	21. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel uses one of his new powers and meets up with Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the best experience have this song on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgKh6B-o7xU

Gabriel clambered out of bed, the chill creeping into his bones. His legs shook terribly, and all his aches and pains decided to rear themselves once again.

He snatched the blanket off of the bed, pulling it tight around him like a cloak. He stumbled towards the door, legs just barely holding his weight. He almost fell a handful of times, because his thighs would randomly give out on him, but that was a small matter.

He _had_ to know that Jack was okay.

Gabriel managed to reach the door, fumbling with the handle. Rotting hands plus the constant shaking made it more difficult than it needed to be.

The door was locked, he figured- He slammed his fist against the wood, as if it would do anything. He breathed in and out, trying to calm himself. He had no reason to frenzy like this, and by all rights, he should be resting.

He started to feel…

Strange.

Stranger than usual.

Something soft and curling- a wrenching in his stomach that disappeared almost as quickly as it’d come.

Almost like his entire body had become numb.

He tried to move to touch his arm- He wasn’t sure if anything moved in response, and in the dark, he wasn’t sure he even _had_ arms anymore.

That was not a comforting thought.

He could still feel the floor beneath him, the smoothness and ridges of the stone. He could feel the door, too- Individual chips of peeling paint and curling wood. He didn’t feel _cold_ anymore- in fact, his sense of touch was the only sense he was certain of.

It occurred to him he wasn’t breathing. When he tried to take a breath, there were no muscles to complete the action.

A Reaper power? Which one? He wished he could still see.

He could still _move._ That he was decently certain of. He spread some part of his body ( an arm? A leg? Did he still have arms and legs? ) over the floor, and could feel the cracks and bumps in the stone-laid ground.

An idea occurred to him.

Amelie had said- “ _A Mantle can dissolve into smoke or mist. Like a sentient cloud.”_

If he was a cloud, or mist, or smoke, or whatever, he could contort himself into different shapes, right?

Contort himself thin enough to fit under the crack of the door.

It was worth a shot.

He felt around blindly. It was an inch tall gap, a couple feet wide- he could feel the slight breeze of an air current underneath it.

With his somewhat gelatinous, gaseous form, it was easier than he thought it’d be to squeeze underneath and show up on the other side.

Now that he _was_ on the other side of the door, though, he had to figure how to turn fully back into a human.

He tried reshaping himself into something that vaguely resembled a person- he made himself arms and legs and a torso and a head, but he still wasn’t solid, which was _really concerning._ Forget rotting hands, _this_ would be a hellish thing to be stuck as.

Maybe it was like the Sight- It had to be triggered by something, at least until he got used to using it. What the hell would be a trigger, though? Himself? Other people? He struggled to recall his reflection, only able to envision bits and pieces of himself at a time.

 _Don’t panic Gabe, don’t panic._ He was, in fact, starting to panic. _God dammit, don’t panic, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine! Angela and Amelie will help you-_

He suddenly snapped back into sensation.

He also felt about ten times worse- lightheaded, his stomach twisting like it was up higher in his body than it should be. Even without looking at himself he knew he must’ve been smoking. He felt like an overcooked vegetable. Skin too tight and body too heavy. _Exhausted,_ too.

But he was on the other side of the door.

He suspected that, like with the Sight, the Reaper’s powers would get easier, quicker, and less painful to use.

He laid there, on the floor, for an indeterminate amount of time. His muscles seemed to ache all over, bones and flesh that’d been unknit protesting to suddenly occupying a body again.

It took a long while before he could find the determination and willpower to get up and keep moving.

Gabriel fumbled around on the floor of the passageway he was in, trying to find a wall. His palm bumped up against smoothened wood, and he patted at it, trying to corroborate that it was, in fact, a wall. When he confirmed it, he stood up and leaned heavily on the wall, trying to take some of the strain off his body. His muscles shook, particularly his calves. He knew painfully well that his body was about to give out at any moment, but it hadn’t yet, so he might as well keep going.

He limped pathetically down the hallway, opening the Sight to help him find Jack.

Gabriel was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to handle stairs, but fortunately Jack was on the same floor as he was. Assuming this hallway kept going forward, he was on a straight shot to the griffin’s location.

There _was_ a complication, though.

There was a golem servant between himself and Jack, and he hesitated, wondering if it would stop him and force him back to his room. He wasn’t going to try to sneak past it as a mist anytime soon- he wasn’t sure he could manage the transformation, or if he could even transform at will.

He didn’t have time to decide.

The golem turned a corner and came into Gabriel’s line of sight. Like the golem that’d brought him breakfast, it was formed out of rock, its joints glowing and animating the stone that made it up. Gabriel stood there, stock still, as it plodded over to him.

It stopped, made an odd chirping noise. It offered out its arms, and Gabriel wondered what it wanted.

It pointed to him again, tweeting softly, but that still didn’t clue him in as to what it wanted. The golem pantomimed picking someone up and carrying them, and it clicked.

“Don’t carry me, just- Help me out a bit.”

A soft whistle of confirmation. It knelt, slightly, helping Gabriel hook an arm around its neck and limp along by using the golem as a support.

It was slow, unpleasant going, and in the light that the golem cast, he could tell that his hands looked even worse than before. He was missing a couple fingers, and seemed to have smoking stubs in their place. He tried to concentrate on growing one back, but the bone-dragging weariness from his transformations proved to be too much for him to immediately use any Reaper-related powers. At least his hands seemed to have stopped melting and re-forming- He preferred the missing fingers, he thought.

Jack’s door was made out of heavy steel, locked from the outside. The locks faintly glimmered, and Gabriel suspected there was some kind of magical protection as well as the physical safeguards. Unlike the door to Gabriel’s room, there wasn’t a gap under or over this door that he could be able to squeeze through. That wasn’t a total loss, though- if he couldn’t muster enough energy to rebuild his fingers, he couldn’t muster enough to turn into a mist and go under the door.

He still needed to get in, though.

“Can you open this for me?” He asked the golem. It warbled uncertainly.

“ _Please?”_ Gabriel laid a hand on the rock that made up its forearm- it was warm and smooth under his touch.

Its head bobbed slightly.

It steered Gabriel to the nearest wall, making sure he could hold himself up before it headed back to the door.

Its fingers shifted, re-building themselves into the rough shape of a key. A couple of sparks were produced by the union of key and lock, but soon enough, the door lay open.

The golem chirped at Gabriel, sounding like an inquiry. Gabriel gestured it over, and it helped him limp into Jack’s room.

It wasn’t _that_ bad, as far as prisons went. It was obvious that this had formerly been a non-prisoner room- It looked exactly like Gabriel’s, barring the fact that it had even less furniture and a smaller, grubbier bed. Candles floated in the air, brass candleholders seemingly keeping them aloft.

Jack was on the floor, sitting cross-legged.

The griffin was in his human form- He had shackles around his wrists, lashed to the wall above the bed. The shackles had long chains, fifteen feet or somewhere thereabouts, which gave Jack just enough freedom to move almost anywhere in the room. It looked like he’d be cut off a couple feet before the door, though, which Gabriel supposed made an uncomfortable kind of sense.

Why was Jack being treated like a prisoner?

That took a backseat to the man himself, though. Jack was devoid of a shirt, baring his chest ( _stop staring Gabriel_ ) and forearms. He still had his boots and pants, but his jacket and shirt had gone. He had a touch of unhealthiness to his features, that suggested he hadn’t been sleeping or eating well. Something about the pull of his ribs against his skin…

Gabriel felt uncomfortably like he’d been sucker punched in the chest. A thousand words jumped to his tongue- Explanations, apologies, excuses- but he could say none of them. How was he going to justify himself? To explain?

Jack’s beautiful blue eyes looked up at him, reflecting the candlelight.

Jack licked his lips, almost uncertainly.

“Gabriel?”

His brain seemed to freeze.

Jack said, louder, “Gabriel? Is that you? What happened to your face?”

All those words shriveled up on his tongue, and he blinked.

“My face?” Then, more urgent, “What’s wrong with my face?”

_Christ, I haven’t seen a mirror, is my face rotting or-_

“Your eyes are red.” Jack said, a touch uncertain.

“Yeah-”

Jack, ever perceptive, noticed the rest of him. He jerked in his chains, sputtering, “What happened to your _fingers?”_

“I’m working on them.” Gabriel glanced towards the open door, anxiously. “Keep your voice down.”

“Gabriel, what _happened_ to you? What did they do? Were they asking you about Liao, too?”

“About _Liao?”_ Gabriel blinked. “No- I mean… Jack, things have changed.”

Jack caught on in a moment, a tiny, strangled sound leaving his throat. “You’re the Reaper.”

“Yeah.”

There was a quiet pause. Gabriel stared at Jack, chest uncomfortably restrictive. He was a powerful supernatural being now, but Jack made him feel so _weak,_ so _uncertain._ Everything hinged on how he reacted to Gabriel’s change.

“I failed.” Jack broke the silence.

“What?”

“Liao ordered me to keep you safe if I ever saw you. I should have killed that harpy and kept you with me.” Jack exhaled softly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Jack.” Gabriel urged. “I don’t mind being the Reaper. It’s not that bad.”

“You’re being _possessed_ by the _physical embodiment of evil._ You’re missing _fingers.”_ Jack objected hotly.

“I’ll grow them back,” Gabriel said impatiently. “Jack, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m worried for you.”

“Worried for _me?_ Are you out of your damn _mind?_ You’re the Reaper!”

“I told you, I don’t mind!” Gabriel protested. He wriggled away from the golem, a wave of weakness washing over him and making him stumble. “Jack, I-”

What a time to get tongue-tied. _Spit it out, dumbass. Everything’s riding on this._

“- I _missed_ you.”

The griffin’s piercing blue eyes met Gabriel’s own, and he held that stare.

Gabriel had a pretty good idea of how he looked. Haggard, terrified, desperate- a child with their heart boldly on display in their hands.

Jack had to know now that he was scared. That he had no idea what he was doing, where his future was going- Everything that would come was a rippling, frightening mystery now that he was the Reaper, and he just needed a _moment_ of comfort from someone other than Angela.

“Liao is going to be angry.” Jack said quietly.

“I know.” Gabriel replied, terse. Without prompting, he moved closer to Jack. The griffin scooted over, made some room, and Gabriel sat next to him, side flush against his.

Jack was warm- there was so much conveyed in the contact, so much said without words.

_I’m sorry._

_It’s okay._

Gabriel placed his hand on the cold ground. A couple seconds later, Jack’s palm gently came down on his hand. A small, affectionate gesture that Gabriel couldn’t help but relax into.  

Tentatively, Jack stroked Gabriel’s hand with his thumb. Gabriel didn’t object, and that seemed to embolden the griffin. His thumb repeatedly brushed across Gabriel’s knuckles- a gentle, comforting motion, over and over again.

“If you want to cry-” Jack began.

“What do I look like, a pussy?” Gabriel shot back, good-natured but weary.

“It’s not a bad thing to cry sometimes.” Jack replied.

“I already did when I realized you were alive.” Maybe it was tiredness that made him so honest.

“It’s going to take more than a bullet in the shoulder to kill me.” Jack smiled.

“Yeah.” Gabriel’s head lolled back, and he looked up at the ceiling. “Are you cold?”

“No. I’m used to it.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Hard to say. A couple days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.” Jack said, quietly.

A quiet pause, and Gabriel laid his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Jack considered that for a minute. “Are you?”

“Will be once you stop dodging the question, Jack.” Gabriel replied, a flicker of ire making its way into his voice.

“Sorry.” Jack apologized, but his voice contained a hint of humor. “I’m okay. But I just want to get back to my hoard.”

“Now you know how I felt, asshole.” Gabriel prodded Jack’s side with his free hand, although he had to use his middle since his index was currently missing.

Jack’s nose wrinkled. “Does missing those fingers really not bother you?”

“My hands were rotting and regrowing before. This is an improvement.” Gabriel examined the smoking stumps where his digits had once been.

“Can you grow them back?”

“I think so.”

“Are you going to?”

“Eventually.” Gabriel assured him lazily. “I needed a golem’s help just to get down the hallway- I’m fucking _tired,_ white bread.”

“If you call me ‘white bread’, I’m calling you Gabe.” Jack responded idly.

Gabriel didn’t think he minded all that much.

“Okay.”

Jack glanced at him in surprise. The thumb that’d been tracing Gabriel’s knuckles paused, and Gabriel vainly wished he’d keep doing it. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Are we friends now?”

“If we weren’t friends, I would’ve torn your head off the second you touched my hand.”

Jack’s cheeks went slightly pink, and a stupid, flattered expression was stuck on his face. “Good to know. I guess you’ve got more than two friends now, huh?”

Gabriel eyed him. “If you keep making cracks about me not having any friends, I’m going to take my friendship back.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” Jack assured him, closing his eyes. Jack’s thumb resumed its pattern across Gabriel’s hand, and Gabriel found the motion incredibly... soothing.

There was a long moment of warm, comfortable silence. Jack’s heat, the flicker of the candles, the hypnotic circles his thumb traced…

“Are you going to stay?” Jack asked, punctuating his words with a yawn.

“Stay where?” Gabriel asked, voice thick with sleep.

“Here. With Talon.”

“That’s too far ahead to think.” Gabriel muttered, met with a soft laugh from Jack.

“Okay, Gabe.”   



	22. Getting To Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Jack socialize, Angela scolds Gabriel, and Gabriel learns more about the other people in the house.

When Gabriel woke up _this_ time, it was because of Jack.

“Gabe! _Gabe!”_

Gabriel was being violently shaken, and he was not happy about it.

“What? What?!” Gabriel slurred, attempting to snap out of the warm, comfortable sleep he’d been in. He moved to fight Jack off and get the griffin to stop shaking him, but his coordination wasn’t quite up to snuff because of his drowsy brain.

“You’re bleeding!”

“What?” Gabriel squinted at him.

“Your nose is bleeding-”

Gabriel dabbed the spot around his nostril with a forefinger, then held it up for examination. Dark, thick, tarry fluid. His nostrils stung faintly, but it was probably the mildest pain the Reaper had brought so far.

“That’s-” A sneeze began building up in the back of his throat, and when he did sneeze it was with an explosion of black tar in every direction. “- Normal.”

“Is it?” Jack asked anxiously.

“Yeah.” Gabriel sniffed noisily, wiping off the dark fluid with the sleeve of his robe. “It’s not blood.”

“It’s not?”

“I don’t _think_ it is.” Gabriel amended.

“Has it done this before?”

“No, but Angela said it was a symptom. Leaking from the eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.”  

Jack’s nose wrinkled slightly in disgust. “Will it stop?”

“Yeah. I _think_ the Reaper’s kinda like a cold- You sneeze and cough and throw up until your body just gives out and lets the sickness do whatever it wants.”

“Not to be a downer, but I think if your body gives up on fighting an illness, you die.” Jack pointed out.

“I’m too valuable for the Reaper to kill me on my first week.” Gabriel assured him playfully. He would’ve said more, but a sneeze interrupted him.

“Cover your mouth!” Jack recoiled away like an affronted cat.

“What, like you’re gonna get sick?” Gabriel challenged.

“No, but I don’t want that stuff on me.” Jack eyed the black goo as if it could kill him, which it very well could’ve for all Gabriel knew.

“Don’t be a baby, Jack.”

“I don’t want your Reaper gunk on me- That’s not being a baby, it’s not wanting foreign bodily fluids anywhere near me.”

“It’s both,” Gabriel amended for him.

“I’ll be a baby if it means good hygiene.” Jack harrumphed.

Gabriel’s retort, a joke about Jack being _his_ baby, died on his lips. He wasn’t quite sure if Jack would take to it without assuming it was some kind of come-on. And maybe it _would’ve_ been, but he’d only known the guy for a handful of days. Outside of fairy tales and one night stands, nobody got together _that_ fast and had both parties happy.

Gabriel covered the momentary lapse by rekindling their banter. “Speaking of good hygiene, have you been able to take a shower? You smell.”

“You’re not exactly a rose garden either.” Jack shot back. “You even _smell_ sick.”

Gabriel sneezed again, which didn’t help him prove Jack wrong. “‘F you say so, white bread. You smell like shit, which is a lot worse than just smelling ‘sick’.”

“If it offends you so much, ask the harpies to let me have a bath.”

Another missed opportunity with a joke about joining him. Fuck.

“Maybe I will,” Gabriel replied, a much more lame comeback than he intended.

There was a silence- an awkward one that was gradually growing worse the longer it lingered. His brain scrambled for anything to keep the discussion going, to desperately escape from looking like a dumbass.

“- Did you ever go to school?” He blurted, which was probably not the best question to ask.

“What?”

“School. How do supernatural creatures get enrolled?” Gabriel cleared his throat. “I mean-”

“There are special schools,” Jack said cautiously. “Comprised entirely of mythical creatures and magically gifted people. I went to one.”

A short pause.

“Hogwarts isn’t real.” Jack clarified. “In case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” Gabriel lied.

Jack’s voice made it clear he didn’t buy it. “If you say so, Gabe.”

“Did you go to a school in Indiana?” Gabriel hurried along. “Or-”

“Oh, yeah. There’s a bunch up north. I went to the equivalent of high school in Chicago when I was a teenager.”

“What’s the difference?”

“It’s a lot easier to die, because your classmate might be an ogre and your gym coach might be a dragon.”

Gabriel glanced at the griffin. “Did you ever get into any fights?”

“Of course. They were basically unavoidable. I pride myself on winning just about every single one.” Jack puffed out his chest slightly. “Did you ever get into any?”

“I lived in the shittiest part of LA. I’m lucky I didn’t _die_ from some of the fights I got in.”

Jack looked slightly dismayed, but all Gabriel could do was offer him a shrug. “School was serious. If you wore the wrong color or the wrong clothes or said the wrong thing to the wrong person, you could end up dead. And in most cases, nobody cared. Was all I could do to keep my knuckles and nose clean and pass without dying.”

“What were your grades?”

“Nothing good enough to get into a big-name college. I went to a local one.”

“You’re a police officer, right?” Jack said, tentatively.

“Yeah. Got an associate’s degree in college. Dropped out. Got into a police academy. Passed with flying colors. Became an officer. How’d you do?”

“I passed with the highest marks available.” Jack lifted his chin, obviously proud. “Got offered a lot of scholarships- I opted to join Overwatch instead. I moved through the ranks quick and became Strike-Commander, until I quit and Liao took over.”

“Why’d you quit?”

“People in Overwatch, people I cared about, started dying.” Jack’s gaze traveled to the ground. “I didn’t want to be a part of _any_ of it. I asked Liao to step up and that was that.”

“How long ago…?”

“A while.”

“How _old_ are you?”

“A hundred years, give or take.”

“What the fuck?”

“Most magical creatures have extended lifespans.” Jack explained. “I’m about middle-age.”

“You were born…”

“Early nineteen twenties.”

“Jesus. You didn’t get drafted in-”

“World War II? Most magical creatures stayed out of it, unless they were particularly fond of their country. I didn’t have to sign up for the draft because legally, I didn’t exist.”

There was a pause between the two of them. Gabriel chewed on what Jack’s age meant- Did that make their relationship creepy? Jack was sixty years older than him, give or take a year.

A distinct sense of self-doubt abruptly clouded his thoughts- Wouldn’t Jack go for someone older? Someone more experienced? Someone who _wasn’t_ the physical embodiment of evil? Someone who would _age_ the same way he did? Even with the Reaper’s extended lifespan, Gabriel would die long before Jack would.

_You’re not trying to get together with him, you stupid asshole. He’s not your type, anyway._

Gabriel attempted to shake out the thoughts. “Well, that’s shitty.”

“Yeah.” Jack let out a quiet sigh.

“Hey, out of curiosity- Were you and Liao ever a _thing?”_

Jack choked on his spit. “ _WHAT?”_

“Well, she mentions you a lot and she was the person to take over when you left-”

“We were just _friends,_ Gabe!” Jack sputtered. “We worked together, we weren’t-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Gabriel held up his hands in a gesture for peace. “Heh. You know you’re _bright red.”_

“I am not!” Jack barked indignantly. His cheeks were flushing a lovely shade of maroon, and his ears were a blooming crimson.

“Are _too,_ Jack.” Gabriel punctuated his words by sneezing into the crook of his elbow.

“Shut up,” Jack ordered. “Were _you_ and Liao ever a thing?”

“Nope.” Gabriel replied, casual as you please. When turning it around on Gabriel didn’t invoke the same blushing and stammering fit that it had in Jack, the griffin huffed indignantly and punched the new Mantle in the shoulder.

“You’re violent,” Gabriel teased. “I should arrest you.”

Jack hit him harder.

“Ow. Maybe hit me harder, it might actually-”

The door to Jack’s cell, which had been closed this entire time, was abruptly opened.

“Oh shit.” Gabriel mumbled. He glanced at Jack, who was now frozen. “Busted.”

Angela, Amelie, and a guilty-looking golem flooded into the room.

Angela looked furious, Amelie looked indifferent, and the golem was covering its face with its hands.

“Gabriel, there are no words in the English language I can use to express how _disappointed_ I am in you.” Angela stood tall, blue eyes sparking with rage.

“That’s English’s fault, not mine.” Gabriel replied easily- he attempted to furtively hold back a sneeze, and did so successfully, although the sensation was not exactly pleasant. Angela looked like she wanted to tear him in half, and even Amelie seemed to be mildly irritated at his sass.

“How did you get out of your room?” Angela ignored his smart remark.

“I don’t remember.”

“ _Gabriel.”_ Anger darkened her tone.

“I don’t. Honest.” He sneezed and wiped his nose with his robe, sniffing slightly.

“Gabriel, we need you to stay _in your room_ until you’re _fully_ recovered.” Angela barked.

“Why?” Gabriel challenged, somewhat churlish. “I’m the _Reaper._ You can’t tell me what to do.”

“You’re not the _Reaper.”_ Angela spat. “You’re a fledgeling Reaper who forgot that he isn’t invincible or untouchable. Until you grow fully into the Mantle, you’re a mortal man riddled with disease and abilities he can barely control.”

“I can turn into mist!” Gabriel argued.

“At the cost of your fingers!” Angela’s face was pink. “Before you interact with _anyone,_ you need to learn how to control your abilities.”

They stared at each other, locked in a furious gaze. Gabriel refused to budge, Angela refused to budge.

“Gabe.” Jack’s voice came to him, gentle and worried. “You should go.”

“What?” He broke the staring contest to look at Jack, surprised. “Why?”

“Because she’s right.”

Gabriel felt distinctly betrayed- He shot Jack a tiny glare, and the griffin simply shook his head.

Gabriel attempted to rise, feeling a slight wave of weakness wash over him. His knees buckled, and he managed to catch himself before he bashed his face against the stone.

“ _Fuck,”_ he grunted. He was very aware of Angela watching him, probably thinking _I-told-you-so._ “Jack, help me out.”

The griffin aided Gabriel into getting to his feet- Gabriel had to end up heavily leaning on him for support, as the full-bodied shivering had started to return the moment he began seriously moving. He didn’t trust his legs.

The golem quietly lumbered forward, motioning to take Gabriel from Jack. Gabriel hesitated a moment, then allowed himself to transition from griffin to golem.

“I’m glad this is over.” Angela sighed. “Gabriel, you had no idea how _worried_ we were when we entered your room and found you were missing… I’d almost thought you’d teleported away while you were confused and weak, and then how would we have found you?”

The golem helped him out of the room, and when Jack’s heavy metal door closed, Gabriel’s heart seemed to shrivel.

“Sorry.” He muttered, not feeling sorry at all.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Angela soothed, sounding like she was speaking more for herself than Gabriel. “You learned a few things, so this wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

Gabriel sneezed loudly.

“Your powers are developing.” Angela continued. “Which is good.”

“I want to know if he can regrow his fingers.” Amelie chipped in. “Regenerating lost parts is another important thing the Reaper can do.”

“I think I can.” Gabriel said. “Need to lie down first.”

“Would you prefer Bastion carry you?” Angela asked.

“Bastion? They have names?” Gabriel glanced at the golem.

“This one is Bastion. He’s the oldest of the golems.”

“How old?” Gabriel asked warily, anticipating “a hundred years old” or “a thousand years old”.

“A few years.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Angela said, humor coloring her voice. “A decade ago, this mansion was staffed by pixies, but they were replaced by golems. Torbjorn Lindholm, their creator, joined us about five years ago, and made Bastion… Four years ago?”

The golem made a confirmative whistle.

“We acquired Sombra, a technomancer-”

“A _what?”_

“A technomancer. Magic and technology together- a rather _unusual_ branch of magic, but a useful one nonetheless. Sombra was in Talon for quite a while, but just recently Amelie decided to have her join us in the mansion.”

“And the other one?” Gabriel asked, wondering about the voice from the other night.

“Other one?” Angela asked.

“There’s another person here.”

“Oh! Oh, yes, him. He’s waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?” Gabriel’s brow twisted in confusion.

“Yes. I told you, the Reaper acts as a diplomat. He was waiting for Amelie to make a decision, but now that Amelie isn’t the Reaper, you’ll have to decide his case yourself. He has been remarkably patient with Amelie and you.”

A casual glare was shot in the former Mantle’s direction, but Amelie just shrugged.

“I can make a decision now,” Gabriel objected faintly.

“Not without the strength to act on it.” Amelie corrected him swiftly. “A cub is not as frightening as a full grown tiger. Your words will have more impact if you wait.”

“Can I at least hear what his problem is?”

“I appreciate your eagerness to do your job, unlike Amelie-” Another glare. “- But I think we should wait. If you show signs of recovery in a few days, then you can head downstairs and discuss with him over breakfast. For now, I think you should focus on recovering your hands.”

“Okay, okay. But what’s his name?” Gabriel pestered.

“Tekharta Zenyatta. He is a djinni, representing the Shambali order. He has journeyed all the way from the Nepalese mountains.” Angela replied promptly.

“A dji- a djin- a _what?”_

“A genie.” Amelie clarified.

“What? The three wishes kind?”

“No.”

“Then what kind?”

“It’s complicated.” Angela sighed. “It would be easier if Zenyatta explained it himself.”

“What does he look like?” Gabriel wondered aloud.

They exchanged glances.

“He looks…” Angela began uncertainly.

“Different.” Amelie finished.

“That’s not helpful. _”_ Gabriel complained.

“It’s hard to describe.” Angela said, somewhat apologetic.

They stopped in front of Gabriel’s door- Angela opened it, and Bastion helped Gabriel hobble back to bed. The golem delicately tucked him in, gave him a pat on the head, and lumbered for the door.

Gabriel sat up, shifting the neatly arranged covers. Angela and Amelie entered, and Bastion closed the door as he went.

“Your hands,” Amelie prompted.

Gabriel laid them out. His left was missing its forefinger and pinkie, his right missing its ring. In the place of fingers was stumps, softly oozing some purplish smoke. Instead of reddened flesh or bone, the stumps were colored a blackish-blue, like they’d been dipped in ink and left to dry.

“Do you know how to fix them?”

“Maybe?” Gabriel said, uncertainly. He concentrated on his ring finger- He _knew_ he had the capacity to regrow it, knew what it looked like, from the pink of his nail to the tiny cluster of hair just after his knuckle. He inhaled, exhaled deeply.

_I am the Reaper._

The smoking mist that’d been endlessly roiling off of the stump paused.

Gabriel watched, in detached shock and fascination as the mist solidified to bone, then reddish muscle, then curling sinew, wrapped up in dark skin.

He wiggled his finger, and it responded. The sensation was simultaneously familiar and foreign.

“It’s progress,” Amelie appraised gruffly. “We should cut off a leg and see if he can grow that back…”

“Amelie!” Angela squawked, slapping the former Mantle’s shoulder. “No!”

“It was a _joke, cheri.”_ Amelie harrumphed.

Gabriel repeated the process with his other missing fingers, wiggling the newly regrown digits experimentally. They felt the same, but somehow _different._ He guessed that was normal.

“What time is it?” He asked offhandedly.

“Seven AM.”

“Hmm.”

He opened his Sight, ignoring Angela and Amelie, who started chattering amongst themselves.

That Torbjorn, the golem creator, was far below. Jack remained in his cell. Sombra was a floor or so down. The djinni, Zenyatta, was moving around on the same level. He attempted to take another peek at the djinni, hoping to be subtle enough that he wouldn’t be locked out.

No dice. He got a lick of what he’d felt before- serenity and peace- before he was politely shunted out.

 _What are you doing?_ Soft amusement from the djinni. _A curious soul as our Reaper… Or perhaps, a defiant one? Do you really want a glimpse that badly? I assure you, there’s nothing interesting you’re missing out on._

 _Then why are you keeping it locked away?_ Gabriel wanted to ask.

He managed to prepare himself before his Sight was abruptly shut. He hissed softly under his breath, but he wasn’t as jarred as he could’ve been, and the talking harpies didn’t seem to notice.

He re-opened his Sight, immediately heading to the djinni.

 _Still determined?_ A gentle, warm laugh washed over Gabriel. _Tenacity is an interesting quality in a Reaper. And, from what I have managed to gleam from your time spent away from your room, affection appears to be another trait in your possession. A far rarer attribute, but a good one nonetheless._

That was not a conversation he wanted to have. Gabriel made to close his Sight, but it was like the damn thing had jammed.

He thought of Roadhog, of Athena and Winston and all the other mortals he had come to know, but it refused to close.

 _Such curious pictures you are sending._ The djinni hummed. _Are they focuses you use to close your Sight? I apologize. I’d figured, since you were so curiously venturing into me, I may as well keep your Sight open._

 _He’s playing with me!_ Gabriel realized, a thrill of fear spiking through him.

 _I hope you’ve learned something from this. I don’t mean to frighten or intimidate you._ The djinni said gently. _Humility is also a good quality in a Reaper, and I hope this has humbled you rather than angered you. I will let you be._

Gabriel gratefully closed his Sight, somewhat shaken that someone _else_ had the ability to use _Gabriel’s_ own powers. Not only could the djinni _use_ them, he overrode Gabriel’s _own_ commands.

If Zenyatta could mess around with Gabriel’s powers, then why the hell did he need the Reaper’s help? Shouldn’t he just be able to settle his disagreement himself if he could veto other people’s magic on a whim?

“Gabriel, are you listening?” Angela’s voice registered faintly.

“What?” Gabriel looked up at her, broken out of his thoughts.

Angela exchanged an exasperated look with Amelie. “I _asked_ how you were feeling. You’ve been sitting there for ten minutes, staring off into space.”

“Just-” He searched for a possible excuse. “- Thinking about Jack.”

Angela’s face melded into something several shades closer to concern. “What about him?”

“Why is he _here?”_  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. the working chapter title was "look at this photograph. every time i do it makes me laugh." i dont know why
> 
> 2\. this fic takes place neither in present day or in the Overwatch timeline. It takes place in 2026. Why? Mostly it's an arbitrary decision, but the Overwatch futuristic qualities clash with the mentions of phones and keyboards and the distinct lack of holograms and non-shit cities. In initial drafts, this fic takes place in 2076, and up until about this chapter, it was intended to be set in the winter of 2017. 
> 
> 3\. when i said 'arbitrary decision' it's not actually an arbitrary decision. Jumping the setting ten years into the future means i have an excuse to not get political, because jesus christ you can bet your ass a non-heterosexual mixed-race man from california who grew up poor is going to complain about trump and i really dont want to turn this into some kind of political message
> 
> 4\. three chapters have been released on the weekend out of the twenty-two we have presently- chapter eight, chapter 18, and now chapter 22. this is because i'm lazy and don't like writing when i could be not writing on the weekends
> 
> 5\. i dont know much about djinns so prepare for a blend of islam-based understanding interspersed with random bullshit i've made up


	23. I Gotta Hand It To Ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela remembers her fight with Jack, Gabriel tells his new parents it's not a phase, and learns about a terrifying new power.

_ A wound in the abdomen. Gunshot, point blank, ten millimeter handgun. Muzzle four centimeters shy of her navel, to the left. Possible puncturing of the kidney, most definitely an intestine. Too low to cause serious damage to major internal organs, but serious enough to bleed out from without aid.  _

_ Gabriel’s eyes were wide- cinnamon brown, widened by shock and surprise. Blood freshly spattered the dark material of his hoodie.  _

_ He took a startled step back, eyes smoldering with something akin to uncertainty or fear. His jaw twitched, nose slightly flared, brows creased. His exhale was loud and slow, an attempt to calm himself down. He switched the safety of his handgun back on, stuffing it into his pocket quickly as if he couldn’t bear to look at it any longer.  _

_ Human beings were animals, despite believing they were better than all others in the animal kingdom. If you backed a cat into a corner, it’d show its claws. If you backed a human into a corner, it’d do much the same.  _

_ Gabriel, by shooting both of them, had eliminated perceived threats. He had sheathed his claws, and now, very much like a cat, he would run away and hide to lick his wounds and avoid those just trying to assist him.  _

_ Angela had to stop him before he hurt himself. There were monsters in these woods, and some of them weren’t so easily dispatched with bullets. _

_ “How could you,” Angela gasped, attempting to stir an emotional response in Gabriel. Guilt, hopefully. If his uncertain, flighty body language was anything to go by, he would turn himself over and apologize for acting out of fear. “Gabriel…” _

_ “If it’s worth anything, I hope neither of you die.” Gabriel’s voice had an uncertain quaver to it. Jack made an angry sound, and Angela couldn’t hold back a quiet moan of pain. “I’m sorry.”  _

_ “If you were sorry you wouldn’t have shot us!” Jack shouted. Then, weaker- “God- God damn.”  _

_ Gabriel’s head swiveled, and Angela wondered momentarily if he was scanning for threats or deciding which way to go. He decided west, evidently- his brow smoothened and he looked towards the sun. He took a soft, steadying breath.  _

_ “Thanks for everything, Jack.” _

_ Did they know one another? How long had they?  _

_ Jack rose, slowly, his entire frame trembling with pain. “Gabriel, where are you going? Gabriel?”  _

_ “I’m going home, Jack.” Gabriel whispered reverently, his eyes staring off at nothing at all.  _

_ “Gabriel, wait.” Jack cautioned. Angela shifted, gathering up the magic she’d need to heal herself. It was hard to concentrate, between pain and the exchange between Jack and Gabriel, but soft, golden light twined around her fingers.  _ _  “These forests are dangerous. The things in it are dangerous. If you go off by yourself, you’re going to get hurt.” _

_ Angela agreed, although she was too busy to voice it.  _

_ “I know what I’m doing, Jack.” Gabriel sounded slightly self-assured, and Angela wondered if he actually did have a plan. She dabbed gingerly at her bloody side, hissing softly at the sting. “Don’t follow me.”  _

_ Gabriel took off, bounding into the forest.  _

_ Jack cursed audibly, attempting to slog after the chosen Mantle whilst hindered by the bullet in his shoulder. _

_ “He belongs to us,” Angela barked at him. “I don’t know what connections you have, but he is slated to become the Reaper.”  _

_ Jack glared at her. “He ran away because of you!”  _

_ “He’s scared,” Angela shot back. “It’s not my fault.”   _

_ “Well, I’m going to go get him,” Jack lifted his head, jutting his chin.  _

_ Angela sensed the change a split second before it began- Jack’s face split into a muzzle, his spider silk hair fanned out into a mane. His body twisted and contorted violently, breaking a bipedal human down into a quadruped griffin. His tail shot out violently, his wings splitting off of his sides with an ugly ripping sound, feathers growing. He had paws the size of catchers’ mitts, fangs as long as one of her thumbs- From nose to tail, the griffin was easily over eleven feet long. He stood at more than four feet at the shoulder, and at the head was roughly the height of the average adult human. Muscles bulged under his soft, short white coat, powerful and defined.  _

_ He glanced back at Angela, as if daring her to challenge him. The change had healed the injury in his shoulder, and Angela wasn’t far behind- Her wounds had been healed by the gentle ministrations of her magic.  _

_ “I can’t let you go after Gabriel.” Angela told him, pushing herself off the ground and rising to her talons. “His destiny is long overdue.”  _

_ The griffin snarled in response, peeling back his lips to reveal his fangs. Claws unsheathed, sinking into leaves and dirt.  _

_ Angela had her talons, flight, her small stature, and agility. The griffin had claws, teeth, flight, a massive body still capable of deft movements, and brute force. Angela was at a massive disadvantage in this fight, and she knew it. _

_ The griffin snarled at her, padding single step closer. He flared out his wings, puffing himself out for the purpose of making himself look bigger.  _

_ Angela tried to put on a brave face. She was the decided loser before the fight had even begun- And who knew what the griffin had planned for Gabriel when Angela was out of the way? She had to try, even at the consequence of failure.  _

_ A sound caught Angela’s attention, and Jack’s as well. The griffin glanced over her shoulder warily, and Angela turned her neck just a shade to peek as well. _

_ Golems crashed through the trees to enter the clearing. _

_ They were Torbjorn’s creation, undoubtedly. The craftsmanship and their marks were unmistakable. _

_ The golems were only two of the hundreds that’d been sent out to comb the Las Padres national forest, but two golems would even the odds between Angela and Jack. _

_ Angela sent a thank-you to whatever force had drawn the two to her, and stared down the griffin, a chance at winning within her grasp. _

_ The griffin surged at her with a roar, teeth bared and claws unsheathed. Angela managed to dodge, and the griffin crashed into one of the golems.  _

_ The golem let out a chirp of surprise, limbs flailing as it went down- The griffin hesitated in that critical moment, and Angela interpreted it as ignorance of how to kill animated stone. The other golem slammed into the griffin, knocking Jack off and forcing him to bounce across the clearing until he regained his footing. He roared, fanning out his wings and rising taller.  _

_ Angela did not have intimate knowledge of griffins, but she did know that most big cats were loathe to get into fights when they could simply out-show their opponent. He was doing this all as an intimidation tactic, however futile. _

_ The golems did not fear, nor could they feel intimidated. They were stone- just as uncompromising and unflinching as any other rock.  _

_ The griffin was given and gave out punishment. The golems fought to wrestle the griffin down and keep it still, working in tandem to pin the slippery cat. The griffin fought for its life- writhing and struggling, kicking and hitting the golems with enough force to rip a human head clean off its shoulders.  _

_ Angela drew closer- One of the golems had managed to force down Jack’s legs, keeping them pinned under its body weight. The other golem darted in and clamped its weight down on the griffin’s forelegs, effectively trapping all of his limbs. Jack roared, equal measures of outrage and fear. He thrashed like a fish out of water, wings beating frantically and jaws parting, attempting to bite the golem keeping his front legs hostage. It nimbly weaved out of the way.  _

_ Angela moved closer to the massive beast’s head, but stayed out of striking distance. _

_ “Listen to me.” She murmured to him. One of his great blue eyes swiveled up to look at her, hatred glittering bright. “Gabriel is going to become the Reaper. I don’t care who or what you promised- It is his destiny, and you will not get in the way.”  _

_ Angela looked up at the golems.  _

_ “Kill him, then go back to your search. Gabriel is headed west.”  _

_ The griffin let out a shriek, wings thrumming in protest. The golems had to fight harder to hold on, cheeping shrilly in alarm.  _

_ There was a tense pause. Impatience stabbed through Angela, and she inhaled sharply, trying to hold it together. Gabriel was getting further and further the more time they wasted here, so she would have to kill the griffin herself and move on- _

_ “Oy, chica, the big fuzzy kitty givin’ you trouble?” _

_ A voice Angela loathed. She turned to find Sombra, and irritation shot through the harpy’s entire body at the mere sight of the infuriating technomancer.  _

_ “You are supposed to be in Los Angeles.” Angela told her, voice sharp and severe.  _

_ “I know, I know.” Sombra held up her hands in a what-can-you-do type gesture. “But I figured, how the hell was Gabe gonna get there without a car, so I followed some of the boulders-for-brains instead. And I found you, Gabe and the big ol’ puddy-tat, watched for a bit, and saw him run off while you squared up with Leo over there-” _

_ “You saw all of that and you didn’t help?” Angela demanded, stamping a talon.  _

_ “Don’t ruffle your feathers, chica. Who do you think got Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb?” Sombra jerked a thumb in the golems’ direction. “Sure, I could step in, but unless he was stationary I can’t do my little boop trick.”  _

_ “Let’s get this over with, Sombra. No more joking around.”  _

_ “Sure, sure, fine.” Sombra paced around in front of Jack’s face. The griffin parted its jaws in a protesting bellow, making Sombra cringe and cover her ears. “I’m trying to help you, fuzzy wuzzy, shut up!”  _

_ Jack growled warily, a sound very akin to a rattling motorcycle. He twitched in his bonds, tail lashing anxiously.  _

_ “Let’s get this done.” Sombra’s forefinger abruptly jabbed the griffin’s nose. There was a split second of surprise, then his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he slumped like a broken marionette.  _

_ His wings shed their feathers and shriveled into his back, his sparse hair dispersed, his mane shortened. His muzzle grew back into a human face, his joints re-oriented themselves, and his tail withered into nothing. His ribcage and organs shifted with a loud grinding of bone, and his massive paws shrunk into far more articulated fingers and hands. He lay on the ground, human as Sombra, unconscious and shivering softly. _

_ The golems let him go, chittering nervously amongst themselves. _

_ “Good.” Angela sighed. “Sombra, you’re armed, correct? Kill him and let’s go.”  _

_ “Kill h… Chica, this is valuable.” Sombra snapped her fingers and pointed at Jack. “We’ve got jail cells in the mansion. Plus, I want to know where he got that sweet coat from. Wonderin’ if maybe they’d get me one…”  _

_ “Sombra, be serious.” Angela sighed, a prickle of irritation crossing her voice.  _

_ “I am serious. Don’t kill him. I’ll be personally, one hundred percent responsible if this turns out bad, okay? But I got a hunch that he’s gonna be important.”  _

_ Angela glanced at her, uncertain. She moved her gaze back to Jack- Now that she had a good look at him where he wasn’t yelling or trying to kill her, he looked eerily familiar, even though she couldn’t quite place him. Something about the features of his face called out to her… _

_ “Fine.” She acquiesced. “The golems will bring him back to the mansion. But I want you to go to LA, understood?”  _

_ “Alright, alright. Only ‘cos Gabe has a really cool landlord, though.” Sombra rolled her eyes.  _

_ The golems picked up Jack’s limp body, arranging him comfortably before carrying him off in the direction of the mansion. Sombra followed them, whistling softly, and Angela turned back in the direction Gabriel had come.  _

_ There was broken undergrowth from the frantic path he’d carved when he ran away, which would be easy enough to track. Gabriel was a human, and a city-dwelling human at that- Sooner rather than later he would run himself to exhaustion, and it would be easy enough for Angela to bring him back to the mansion while he was tired and weak. _

_ She gave herself a running start and she took off, wings thrumming through the air as she followed the path he’d left.  _

 

=

 

All of this was unbeknownst to Gabriel, who was waiting for a proper answer to his question. 

“Hello?” He prompted the unresponsive harpy. That seemed to snap Angela out of her reverie- she shook her head ever so slightly, intending on clearing her thoughts away.

“Sorry, Gabriel, what?” 

“I asked why Jack is here.” 

“Sombra spared his life and asked for us to imprison him.” Angela said. Gabriel was decently certain- ninety percent or higher- that there was more to the story than that, but she didn’t elaborate. 

“I want you to let him go.” Gabriel told her, voice calm and measured. 

“No.” Amelie answered before Angela got the chance.

“What? Why?” 

“Because now he knows too much.” She turned her attention to Angela. “You should have killed him,  _ cheri.”  _

“You can’t keep him  _ or  _ me here forever.” Gabriel told them, annoyance momentarily flickering through his voice. 

“We are well aware.” Angela cut in before Amelie got the chance. “As soon as you have mastery of your abilities, you are free to cast off our reign and go wherever you wish. Jack can go with you, if that’s what you’d like. But until you have complete control, it’s safer if you stay here.” 

“But you can’t keep me here,” Gabriel objected.

“We can, and we will.” Amelie replied coolly. “Go ahead. Get up. Try to leave.” 

Gabriel glared at her- he peeled back his blankets, ignoring how the chill flared up his spine. “Where are my clothes?” 

“You want to wear  _ those?”  _ Angela asked. 

“What’s wrong with them?” Gabriel countered, trying to not sound wounded. 

“It’s not exactly  _ Reaper  _ material, Gabriel.” 

“I can dress how I want!” 

Angela and Amelie exchanged looks. “They’ve been folded in the laundry room for a few days.” 

“Where’s that?” Gabriel sneezed loudly, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and stood up, disgruntled. His knees shook, but he ignored his slight instability. 

“Downstairs, but you shouldn’t go down there.” Angela cautioned. 

“He won’t even make it to the door.” Amelie assured her. 

“The hell I won’t!” Gabriel barked. He took a shaky, terrible step, and wished for a minute that he would stop being so goddamn weak. 

“A gust of wind could blow you over. Get back to bed before you make a fool of yourself.” 

Amelie was right, but god  _ damn  _ it was infuriating. 

He staggered several slow, painful steps to the door, feeling Angela and Amelie’s gaze burn into his back. 

The door was locked. Of fucking course. 

_ Fucking door. Open. Open. Open.  _

The chants in his head did jack shit, but god damn, this fucking  _ door  _ was his greatest nemesis. He tried to imagine what he’d done last night, sinking into smoke and delving beneath it, but he remained as solid as he ever had. 

There was a soft pause, and Angela cleared her throat.

“Gabriel, your arm is missing.” 

“What?” He asked, distractedly. 

“Your arm is missing.” Angela repeated. 

He looked down- He did, indeed, have a stump for a forearm, smoking gently. 

“I can still feel my hand.” Gabriel wiggled the fingers of that hand- He could  _ feel  _ something cold and metal underneath his palm, and if he curled his fingers together, he could feel their warmth. “Uh-” 

There was a terrible moment of silence, and Angela figured it out first.

“He teleported his hand.” She rubbed at her temples. “Just his hand.” 

“Is that bad?” Gabriel asked, going from furious to anxious in a moment. 

“It’s not unheard of, but teleporting individual body parts is a rarity…”

“So is not being able to teleport any part at all.” Amelie grunted. “But you saw where that got me.”

“How do I get it back?”

“Do you know where it is?” Angela asked.

“How would I be able to tell?” Gabriel asked, dismayed. Something moved near his hand, and he jerked in surprise, attempting to protect his missing arm even though it was god knew where. “Oh! God!” 

“What!?” Angela asked anxiously.

“Someone is  _ touching  _ my  _ arm.”  _ It was a creepy, foreign feeling that had his skin crawling. He tried wriggling his hand to force the other person away, but two hands came to gingerly cradle his. “I can’t tell you how fucking  _ weird  _ this feels.” At least whoever had grabbed his hand didn’t seem to have any bad intentions.

His hand was moving. He could feel the gentle, foreign slog of motion- this was  _ too  _ freaky. He tried to call his wayward hand back- There was something like a snap in the middle of his chest, and his hand abruptly slapped back where it belonged. 

Gabriel frantically wiggled and prodded his hand, making sure everything was alright. 

“I would recommend you lay down. Teleporting is the most exhausting ability in the Reaper’s arsenal.” 

“I feel fine,” Gabriel said faintly. Where had his hand  _ been?  _ It was fucking creepy not knowing. Who in the name of God would pick up a  _ moving  _ severed hand and carry it with them? 

Angela came over to support him, helping him gently back to bed. Gabriel couldn’t find it in himself to physically protest, but he did verbally: “This doesn’t mean I want to be here.” 

“I know.” The harpy murmured. “But this is exactly why you  _ need  _ to be. This is a safe, stable environment in which you can explore your powers without a care in the world.” 

“Thus far, I’ve been a lot more  _ caring  _ than I used to be, what with rotting hands, missing fingers, and teleporting arms.” Gabriel said dryly. 

“Imagine going through these changes by yourself, Gabriel.” Angela urged. “We’re here to help and explain.” 

Most of this shit would’ve been ten times worse if he was alone. He could agree to that, at least.

“Well, I guess-” 

He sneezed. 

“- You’re right.” 

He opened his eyes and moved to wipe his sleeve- his guts were churning, strangely enough, a fluttery sensation somewhere between dread and being high up. 

He his arm paused mid-motion, and he tried to process what he was seeing.

Terrible, terrible comprehension came to him, and he did all he could do to cope. 

He joked. 

“Toto,” He muttered to himself, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” 

The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance, golden lights radiating brightly against the dark of the dusky sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no


	24. Motion Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

He wished he had his phone with him. 

Just so, if he ever saw Liao again, he could rub it in her face.

_ I got to visit Paris and you didn’t! Ha! Look at all these photos I took! _

He also wished he was wearing clothes instead of a shitty robe, because of a handful of reasons: It was currently under forty degrees, he was barefoot in the filthy streets, and he looked like he was about to throw the flimsy thing it off and become a streaker any second now. 

He didn’t speak French, either, which didn’t help any. Spanish was close to French, right? Or maybe they’d be able to speak English? 

Somebody in Paris  _ had  _ to be able to speak English. 

A person passed him by on the street- their gaze moved over him, then darted back, eyes wide with fright. They froze for a solid couple of seconds, then ran away like the hounds of hell were after them, and Gabriel followed them with his gaze, confused. 

It was then he realized that he was the Reaper, and he probably gave off some terrifying vibes, fledgeling or no.

He had to stop for a moment, breath gently billowing in front of him in the cold air.

He had gotten  _ exactly  _ what he wanted- He’d escaped Angela and Amelie, which was nice, but he’d left Jack behind and he was  _ in the middle of France.  _

Gabriel wrapped his arms around himself, the chill creeping into his fingers and toes. If he lost them due to hypothermia, could he grow them back? An interesting question, but not one he wanted to learn the answer to firsthand. 

He took a small, tottering step, breathing deeply. At least he didn’t feel any more or less terrible than he had when he’d left the mansion. Maybe teleporting wasn’t as exhausting as Angela claimed.

A woman, her husband, and their child passed by- The man’s gaze locked on him for a solid couple of seconds, gripping his son’s hand tightly as if Gabriel would rip the kid away from him and eat it. The woman seemed to recognize him, clutching her purse and her son’s other hand in a death grip. 

Bitterness bubbled up in Gabriel’s chest when they scurried away like rats. 

More people moved by- humans cast him curious but passing looks. Other supernatural beings looked at him in fear and fled from his gaze as if it could kill them. 

It was surprisingly annoying, but not  _ that  _ different from being an officer. When he patrolled in uniform, he got wariness rather than fear. 

_ Chill it, Gabe.  _ He told himself sternly.  _ Calm down and think.  _

Since he wasn’t going anywhere fast, he should take the time to think. He was away from Angela, but he was the Reaper, and he wasn’t getting out of this gig unless he died. 

How would Liao react to all of this? Flutters of nervousness darted through him, as he realized just how monumental his change  _ was.  _ He had become host to an  _ entity of evil,  _ and he wasn’t sure if Liao would welcome him in with open arms or shunt him back to the harpies. 

Where was he supposed to go now? What was he supposed to  _ do?  _

He had to know what his plan of action was before he started making calls or trying to go anywhere. 

Ana. Ana was a safe bet- He was decently sure he’d  _ always  _ be welcome there. And even if the others didn’t welcome him, he knew Ana would allow him to stay. 

He could try sleeping, that would hopefully allow him a gateway into contacting the old alchemist. He could ask passersby if he could use their phones to call her, but from the scared looks he was getting it seemed even less likely. 

A man in a pinstriped blue suit walked by. Dark hair, greying temples, chatting on a phone. A  _ phone.  _

“Hey!” Gabriel called him, and the pinstriped man’s glance slid over him, dismissive. He did a double-take, wide grey eyes taking in Gabriel’s form. He stammered something out on the phone then hung up, pointing to himself fearfully.

“Yeah, you! Get over here!” He put as much menace into his voice as he could. Gabriel Reyes was the Reaper, and fledgeling or no, he still had supernatural sway. The pinstriped man moved close, stuttering in what Gabriel assumed was French. His face flushed a frightened red, and was nervously chewing the end of his cigarette. 

“Your phone.” 

“ _ Quoi?”  _

Gabriel snapped his fingers and gestured to the cellphone the Frenchman clutched in his hand. He turned it over without another word.

The man hesitated for a moment while Gabriel attempted to call Ana.  _ “Tu es… Tu es…  _ You are the Reaper?” 

Gabriel gave him a short nod. A thin, uncomfortable sound leaked from the Frenchman’s throat, and he looked desperately like he would like to be as far away from Gabriel as possible.

He dialed the number, hesitant. 

He tapped in the last digit, finger hovering uncertainly over the call button. As if to encourage him, the numbers flashed a bright, unnatural gold- they flickered into Ana’s spidery handwriting instead of the standard typefont.

Gabriel hit the call button and held the phone up to his ear, somewhat wary.

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Was it the international call or the magical call that made this take so long?

It continued to ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And ring. 

“Hello?” Ana said. “Fareeha? Is that you?” 

“No, no, it’s- It’s  _ Gabriel.”  _

“Gabriel! You promised to call me days ago!” Ana’s voice was accusatory. 

“I’m gonna bring you up to speed real quick, Ana.” He took a quick breath. “I’m the Reaper- don’t interrupt- and I teleported to France on accident.” 

“You- You  _ what?”  _

“I teleported to  _ France,  _ Ana. I can see the Eiffel tower right now.” 

“Did you say you’re the  _ Reaper,  _ Gabriel-” 

“That’s not important-”

“Yes it is!” 

“- Listen, I’ve had a couple days to deal with it, and it’s not big news to me anymore. Besides, we all knew it was going to happen eventually.” 

There’s a beat of silence. “Gabriel, it’s disheartening to hear you speak this way.” 

“I am mostly naked and stranded in the middle of Paris, I don’t care what’s disheartening!” 

“What do you want me to do about it, Gabriel?” Ana asked, a shade of frustration entering her voice.

Gabriel paused and considered that.

“Do you know anyone who might give me a place for the night?” He mumbled sheepishly. 

“No one on this earth would be willing to give up a bed in their home for the Reaper. Would you invite a cannibal into your house?” 

“No.” He muttered. 

“You’re probably going to need to tough it out, but I can check and see if Hanzo or Genji have any connections in France. If  _ anyone  _ would tolerate you, it’s vampires.” 

Gabriel swallowed.

“Ana…”

“What is it?”

“You don’t think of me any differently, do you?” 

A pause, and a crackly sigh. 

“You don’t sound very different. Or act very different.” 

“I don’t feel very different, either.” He confessed. 

“If you were here, Gabriel, I’d still give you my couch.” A hint of humor made its way into her voice. “Stay on the line. I’ll go ask Hanzo or Genji…”  

“Thank you, An-” 

He sneezed.

There was a vague sense of pressure, all over his body- coolness that dragged on his limbs, made them feel blended and fuzzy. His eyes shot open, and a cloud of bubbles streamed out from his nose. 

There was blue in every direction. Blurry, endless blue, the color of the ocean he’d only been made to visit a handful of times. It lolled out endlessly, and Gabriel’s stomach twisted itself into knots as he realized there was nothing beneath him except for a blue void that grew darker and darker the deeper it went, until all he was looking at was a yawning black void impossibly far below him. 

Panic made his stomach lurch, and his gibbering mind screeched to a start as he realized  _ I’m underwater  _ and  _ I’m going to drown  _ at the same moment, closely followed by  _ are there sharks in the water  _ and  _ how far out to sea am I?  _

He panicked and momentarily forgot which direction up was in, but he spotted the stream of bubbles he’d accidentally released and chased them down. 

Gabriel was not a swimmer by any means, but fear was a great motivator. His heavy, heat-sapped limbs were barely responsive, but he kicked his feet and flailed his arms and focused on the glittering grey-blue surface above. 

His lungs began to hurt- a vague sensation that desperately, frantically told him it was  _ time to breathe in  _ and gradually grew more and more unbearable. Alarm bells shrieked in his head, nature’s natural mechanism telling him it was  _ time to stop kidding around and get air immediately,  _ but the surface was so far away…

He breached it and instantly started coughing, attempting to get stinging saltwater out of his body and back into the sea where it belonged. This prompted a lot of choking, hacking, and pain, which was shitty by itself, but Gabriel was mainly focused on the fact that he hadn’t drowned. That was enough of a victory to make him giddy and almost enough to make up for the pains that came along with nearly drowning.

 

But, now he was in the ocean and would have to tread water until he tele-sneezed himself somewhere safer. 

Of course, that was supposing he didn’t freeze to death first. He already felt like a sieve that was gradually leaking warmth into the water, and he couldn’t feel his fingers or toes anymore. 

_ If I get tele-sneezed anywhere else, let it be in the Bahamas,  _ Gabriel prayed. He would do anything to just feel  _ warm  _ again. 

A sneeze faintly tingled the back of his throat, and Gabriel braced himself for the next place he’d end up. 

He sneezed. 

Black coils of smoke burned off of him, and he blinked. 

He was in an incredibly drafty, roomy… Building? It was more like an indoor plaza. Nice, open architecture- the ceiling was fifty feet tall, with neat spirals and carvings or whatever else all over the walls. The floor was open, uncluttered by pillars or unnecessary decor. Candles glowed merrily on windowsills, in corners, and hovering in the air. They cast light in everywhich direction, to the point where not a single shadow crept on the walls or on the floor. The entire structure was made of some kind of warm, orange-pinkish brick, that felt very inviting. There were massive openings ( Gabriel figured they weren’t doorways, since there were no doors ) built on his left and his right, twenty feet tall and ten feet wide, arching neatly and showing off the great outdoors. 

It was also cold as fuck, thank you very much. A glimpse into the “great outdoors” showed he’d just barely been given reprieve from the snowy, mountainous hellscape outside. Gabriel drew his wet robe tighter around himself, uncertain if it would ultimately make him colder or warmer. 

“Oh my.” A soft voice came from somewhere nearby, and Gabriel nearly startled out of his skin. Adrenaline surged through him, feebly offering up just enough energy to whirl around and raise his fists. 

The person who stood before him was…  _ Strange,  _ to say the least. 

The first thing Gabriel noticed was his eyes.

Nine of them, to be in fact. 

They were a pale, washed out blue, like the stereotypical portrayal of blind people. The way they focused on Gabriel nearly made his skin crawl, and he very desperately wished he could tele-sneeze and forget he had ever arrived here. 

He was tall- seven feet, maybe?- and slender. He wore a white robe over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, and Gabriel wondered how the hell he didn’t even have goosebumps since he had his goddamn tit exposed for all to see. He had slightly darkened skin, and Asiatic features that reminded Gabriel of, like, Tibetan monks, particularly with his bald head and style of dress. Golden earrings glittered on both ears, and his chin was dusted an unnatural, shiny gold. Gabriel thought it was comparable to vitiligo, if vitiligo made your skin gold instead of white. There was another splotch on his chest, right about where his breastbone was. 

He had deft, clever hands. Slightly pointed fingernails. Slightly pointed ears. All of his eyes blinked in tandem, and Gabriel wondered if that was more or less creepy than them blinking separately. 

“Hello. I wasn’t expecting you quite so soon.” 

He had a soft, melodic voice. There was a somewhat metallic quality, like wind chimes or something. There was a slight catch of an accent, but that didn’t diminish the musical authority of everything he said.

“Um-” Gabriel glanced behind him, as if that would help. “You’re expecting me?” 

“Of course. You’re the Reaper, aren’t you?” 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“You had only taken on the role a few days ago, correct?” God it was  _ so creepy watching all those eyes blink.  _ “I figured you would be recovering for at least another few weeks.” 

“I  _ am _ recovering.” Gabriel sniffled, shaking his head slightly. “I’m working on it right now.” 

Recognition dawned in all nine of their eyes. “Come into the sanctum. I’ll prepare you some tea, and give you dry clothes.” 

He waited for Gabriel to follow him deeper into the building- There was a small, narrow passageway ( a stark contrast to the sweeping doors outside ) and a crisscross of small corridors with tall ceilings. 

“Who  _ are  _ you, by the way?” 

“My name is Tekhartha Mondatta. I am the leader of the Shambali. At present, you are at our monastery.”

“Shambali…” The name was terribly familiar. “Oh! Zenyatta, Zenyatta was a Shambali.” 

A smile broke across Mondatta’s face. “My emissary to the Reaper. If I had known you would be neatly arriving here, I wouldn’t have bothered him to go to the United States.” 

“I wasn’t trying to end up here.” Gabriel scratched the nape of his neck. 

“I would imagine not. It’s usually too chilly for humans to stay here comfortably.” 

He was eventually lead into a small, homely room. There was a fireplace in one corner- Mondatta bent over it, did something Gabriel couldn’t see, and there was a roaring blaze that looked like it’d been burning for ten minutes already. 

“Could I trouble you to remove your wet robe and warm yourself in front of the fire?” Mondatta chimed gently. “Humans are bashful about nudity. I will turn my back if you’d like.” 

It was like the robe offered much modesty anyway. He discarded it on the ground and scooted up next to the blaze, letting warmth flood over his chest. 

He was naked next to a complete and total stranger, and he wasn’t really bothered by it. Priorities changed quick when you were taken over by a demonic entity. 

“I will be back with a robe and tea.” Mondatta told him gently. Gabriel gave him a short, tense nod, stretching out his limbs in front of the flames.

Things could be worse.

When Mondatta got back, Gabriel was still basking in the warm glow of the fireplace. He was just starting to get feeling back into his dead, frigid fingers. 

“Drink slowly. It is hot.” Mondatta gently laid a saucer of tea next to him. There was a soft rustle of clothing, what Gabriel assumed was a robe.

“Thank you.” 

“It is no trouble.” Mondatta replied smoothly. 

Gabriel picked up the tea. Sipped gently. It was sweet. Comfortingly sweet. But hot, so he didn’t have time to savor it. 

“It’s good.”

“Thank you.” Mondatta hummed. “I would suggest you get dressed. I can assist you, if need be.” 

He did end up needing Mondatta’s help. The robe went over both shoulders, tied at the waist with some kind of thin, ropelike cord. He was still barefoot, but the robe was heavy and  _ warm  _ and it was probably the most comfortable thing he’d worn since he’d been dumped on Ana’s doorstep. 

“So, you’re…” 

“A djinn, yes.” 

“Do you grant wishes?” 

A gentle laugh. “I  _ could.  _ Do you want a wish granted?” 

“No,” He said automatically. The djinn’s laughter was more surprised, more genuine.

“No?” Mondatta repeated.

“My life’s hard enough, and I don’t think magic is going to make it any easier.” Gabriel shrugged slightly.

“A wise outlook. Most would look to magic to fix their problems.” Mondatta scrutinized him closer. “If you  _ could  _ have a wish granted, what would it be?” 

“I’d get a pair of shoes. And socks. Big, wooly socks.” 

Another peal of laughter from the djinn. “A practical wish.” 

“If there’s anything I’m about, it’s practicality.” An  _ ends justify the means  _ type of guy. 

“I’ll be right back, Reaper.” Mondatta said. “Please. Warm yourself, drink. The monastery is home to all who dwell here. Get comfortable.” 

Gabriel gratefully drank his tea and huddled under the fire’s glow. Mondatta came back a few minutes later with a pair of fur-trimmed boots and hand-knitted Christmas socks. 

“Here. If that is not your size, let me know- We have other pairs for human pilgrims.” 

Gabriel gratefully put the socks on, then fully tugged on his boots. Not exactly a ‘Gabriel Reyes’ style, but it’d do. His feet were warm, at any rate. 

His nose tickled, and he looked up at Mondatta to warn him. 

“I think I’m about to sn-” 

Gabriel sneezed.

He opened his eyes and found himself in what could only be Times Square. He got a second to gawk before he sneezed again. 

He was standing on a porch, overlooking a plowed patch of land. A griffin- with a bird’s head instead of a lion’s- opened a golden eye and stared at him, jumping to its feet with a harsh squall. Wings fluttered and the griffin scrabbled desperately over the porch railing to get away from him.

Gabriel sneezed again. 

He stood on top of Ana’s couch. 

The house seemed empty- He prowled cautiously into the small kitchen.

It was almost eerie, having the house be so empty. 

“Ana? Jamison? Hanzo?” He called. 

There was a dragging pause. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Genji perched on the stairs, dark eyes inquisitive. 

“Teleported here. Where’s Ana?” 

“Out.” 

“Out where?” 

“In the forest. I don’t know.” Genji muttered.

“Genji-” 

The vampire regarded him oddly, and Gabriel felt a strange urge to stop talking. 

“I’m hungry,” Genji hissed quietly. 

Gabriel’s brain connected the dots.

Alone with a hungry vampire, and weak to boot. 

“You let Hanzo feed, but not  _ me.” _ Genji spat. He moved down the stairs slowly, like a big cat, eyes rigidly focused on Gabriel’s neck. 

In a soft, honeyed voice, the vampire murmured: “You don’t look so good. You should lie down, Reyes-san.” 

_ No, no, you shouldn’t,  _ Gabriel told himself desperately. But would it really be so bad? He was so tired… It would be nice to lie down… And Genji was trustworthy, wasn’t he? The most trustworthy person… 

“It’s been a  _ decade  _ since I’ve had human blood.” Genji crooned into Gabriel’s ear. He was so damnably, alluringly hot, leaning up against Gabriel’s chest to tenderly put his arms around him. Gabriel’s mind went fuzzy, his limbs limp and pliant, allowing Genji to manipulate him as he pleased. He used two fingers to direct Gabriel’s chin away from his throat. “I can feel every  _ pulse  _ of your mortal little heart…” 

Fangs ghosted over his skin slowly, ticklishly. The hair on the back of his arms stood up. Genji seemed to have found a spot, and his teeth slowly descended on Gabriel’s throat...

Gabriel sneezed. 

He landed harshly on the ground, snapping out of his vampire-fuzzed brain almost instantly. 

Gabriel sat up with a startled squawk, looking around frantically.

The most muscular woman he’d ever seen was currently holding Officer Mei-Ling Zhao, a startled expression on both of their faces. 

“Who are  _ you?”  _ The muscular woman asked, completely bemused. She had a definite Russian burr, which somewhat explained her massive size. 

“Gabriel!” Mei squeaked. She stammered something out in Chinese that Gabriel didn’t understand, and fluttered her hands at the muscular woman, who slowly put her down. The yeti got down on her knees and tightly hugged Gabriel, nearly crushing the air out of his lungs. 

“Mei- Can’t breathe- Can’t breathe-” Gabriel choked. 

“What was that? You appeared in a puff of smoke-” Mei pulled away from him, concern shining in her eyes. “What happened? What’s going on? What are you  _ wearing?”  _

“Well, long story short, I’m the Reaper.” Gabriel dusted himself off. “I keep sneezing and teleporting all over the world. It’s not a good-” 

He sneezed again, because apparently his entire life was built on inconvenience. 

“Welcome back.” Gabriel blinked and found himself back at the monastery, face-to-face with Mondatta, who was quietly drinking tea. “Can you still not control yourself?” 

“I don’t think s-” 

A flurry of sneezes, five in rapid succession. He had no idea where he had briefly appeared, but he ended up in a cold, misty field beside a herd of cattle.

One of the cows mooed at him, approaching as if hoping for food. Gabriel uncertainly gave its muzzle a pat. 

“I don’t have anything for you,” He told it. It lowed mournfully. “Sorry.” 

He waited with that cow for a long time, gently patting its face and staring around at the countryside. The field was ringed by pine trees, the sky was darkened with clouds, and the herd’s cowbells clanked gently, almost like windchimes. 

Gabriel sat down. The cow nudged his face with its own and almost toppled him over, mooing gently. 

“Stop it. I don’t have anything.” He pushed its snout away. It made a soft noise and turned away, trotting back to join the rest of the group. 

Gabriel sneezed again. 

He wearily braced himself for being somewhere else, but when he opened his eyes, he was still on his ass in the field.

His first thought was that the cow was magic, and had magically granted him the ability to not tele-sneeze, but that didn’t seem  _ quite  _ right. Maybe the Reaper was tired from the constant teleporting and needed to recharge, or something. 

The cows headed away, moving with purpose towards something in the distance.

While he was waiting for the Reaper to recharge, he had nothing better to do but follow them. 

He stumbled after the herd- Cows moved faster than he thought, and he’d need to move quicker to keep up with even their walking gait. 

Fortunately for Gabriel, the cow from before was waiting for him. It stood stock-still until he drew close enough- then it galloped over to close the gap between them, lowing excitedly.

He patted its flank, more than just slightly confused. The cow got down on its knees, looking up at him expectantly. 

“Do you- Do you want me to-” 

“ _ Moo.”  _ It swished its tail gingerly.

“Okay then. Looks like…” He slung a leg around its side, gingerly settling his weight on its back. “I am riding... a fucking... cow.” 

The cow stood up, easily bearing his weight and plodding after the rest of the herd. 

Gabriel sighed to himself. 

“Sure. Why not.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: this chapter went through SO MANY REWRITES because i had to figure out where and when I wanted Gabriel to be. In that scene with Genji he was originally bitten, then teleported back to the mansion along with Gabriel. 
> 
> fun fact: cow.


	25. Gourmet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel settles a dispute between nymphs.

So, something Gabriel came to learn: 

Riding any animal was not fun. 

It was particularly worse when you were wearing a breezy robe without any underwear, which meant a lot of unsubtle arranging and shifting on Mugir. 

Right. He’d also named it. 

That might’ve been an indicator that he’d been on the cow for far, far too long. 

Mugir had caught up with the rest of the herd a while ago, and now that they were moving together in a constant, continuous pace, everything had gotten horrifically boring. After an hour of sitting on Mugir’s back, yawning and trying to stay awake despite the chill, he was ready to take a nap right where he was. The slow motion of all the cattle next to him was almost hypnotic, and the gentle rolling of Mugir’s shoulders was oddly…. Comforting. He had to blink frantically and snap his fingers in front of his face to keep himself from quietly dozing off. 

“Are we going somewhere?” He asked Mugir. It lowed softly at him, continuing its steady march with the rest of the cattle. “Jack and Jesse did this same thing to me, you know. They pretended to be normal animals, but they were shitty at it and they didn’t act like real animals. You’re just like them.” 

“ _ Mrrrh,”  _ Mugir said mournfully. 

“Moo at me twice if you’re a werecow.” Gabriel tugged Mugir’s ear, and it tossed its head up to dislodge his fingers whilst blowing out a massive cloud of air from its nose, which was visible in the chilly temperature. 

Maybe werecows didn’t exist. 

At least the scenery was pretty. 

There was a consistent pathway they’d been on for at least four miles. It was the width of about two cows ( Mugir had taken the left, and a cow was snug up beside them ) and it was bordered by deep green pine trees. There was some nice shrubbery trimming the pathway, rich and green. A couple flowers bloomed, yellows and reds and pinks and blues, soft purples and oranges and a whole swirling rainbow of colors. 

As they had continued deeper and deeper into the woods, Gabriel realized something.

It was the middle of December. 

Probably almost Christmas. 

And there were flowers  _ everywhere.  _

And not just flowers, too- Multiple signs that something  _ wasn’t quite right.  _

Bees hovered around, lazy and buzzing. Birds fluttered, hopping from branch to branch, burbles of birdsong breaking out every so often. Gabriel caught a glimpse of deer darting around the woods, nibbling at the rich tufts of grass and weeds that grew so proud and green despite the chill. Gabriel saw a fucking  _ bear,  _ scratching at a trunk and not even regarding the cattle’s presence. Squirrels and mice and wolves and foxes and lynxes and crows and everything all completely ignored his presence and went about eating or whatever it was they were doing. 

What the fuck was going on? Gabriel knew just enough about forests to know that this was  _ abnormal behavior.  _ These animals should be sleeping, or starving, or… Whatever it was they did in winter, not scurrying around in the  _ green  _ grass and sucking nectar out of the  _ blooming flowers in December.  _

“What the hell is going on, Mugir?” Gabriel asked, uneasy. The cow did not respond in any visible way, following the butt of the cow in front of it. 

Did he sneeze into another dimension? Another time? Some  _ magical  _ place?

Angela had mentioned gods and goddesses.

Was he in one of their domains? 

God, he hoped not. He got the distinct impression that riding one of their cows was not the best way to make his introduction. 

_ Hi, God, it’s me, Gabriel. Sorry for jumping on your cow and riding it like some kind of savage. Please don’t fucking slaughter me.  _

Didn’t Angela say he was exempt from being killed by gods because he was the Reaper? Maybe he didn’t need to worry. 

He patted Mugir’s head, worry starting to squirm in his stomach. The cattle had started to increase their speed- Mugir had gone from a slow trot to a fast walk to a gallop, cowbell bouncing around its neck as it chased the others. 

Gabriel’s knees dug into Mugir’s sides, and he threw his arms around its neck, burying his face in its shoulder. He did  _ not  _ want to get thrown off- There was a handful of cows behind Mugir, and getting thrown off now would mean also getting trampled. 

The cows eventually came to a gradual stop- they had gotten out of their lines when they halted, and idled about in a relatively smaller clearing. An edge of nervousness sliced through Gabriel, and he wondered why the line had been halted. Why did they gather  _ here,  _ when they passed through other clearings before without stopping?

He got his answer when a voice floated over the mass of cattle.

He was distinctly reminded of one of his instructors at the police academy. It wasn’t the same person, very obviously, but the tone carried the same distinct disregard for others and impatience with foolishness. It was female, too- Clipped, precise, with the curl of a… Middle-Eastern accent? Indian, maybe? 

“Where are they?” 

Uh-oh. 

Gabriel sat up on the cow, trying to peer over it and see what was going on. He had a sinking suspicion that “they” was not referring to any of the congregated cattle. 

The other cows parted fluidly, leaving him and Mugir out in the open- Gabriel’s palm squeezed the massive bulge of Mugir’s shoulder, and the cow let out a comforting, relaxed bray. Whatever was to come, Mugir wasn’t bothered. 

“This is an unexpected visit.” 

Mugir turned its whole body before Gabriel could move, and lowered its head as it approached the source of the voice.

That source proved to be a woman.

She was slender. Small shoulders, small hips, thin arms, thin ankles. Dark skin, several shades darker than his own, with upturned, intelligent eyes that stared into your soul and thought every bit of it was insignificant. She had small lips, a relatively large nose, and shiny black hair neatly combed behind her shoulders. Her no-nonsense expression reminded Gabriel of strict teachers he’d had back in kindergarden and first grade, and made him feel indignant before even knowing the slightest thing about her. She had earrings- long blue crystals that looked like they ought to be heavy enough to rip clean out of her ears, but apparently didn’t. She wore a simple blue dress the same color as her earrings- the slit the dress began before the hip, leaving it as a strip of fabric in the front and a strip of fabric behind. As embarrassing as it was, it reminded him of Slave Leia from that one Star Wars movie, though considerably more conservative since the dress covered her belly and her chest. 

She looked like she would be far more at home in a suit, like a businesswoman or a principal or something. She  _ looked  _ to be in her mid-thirties, pretty in a very  _ I’ve-got-my-life-together-and-you-don’t  _ type way. It made Gabriel feel very self-conscious that he was, at present, riding a cow like some kind of fucking idiot. 

She was barefoot, which must’ve been cold, and despite being in a forest, she was immaculately groomed. No leaves or dirt or anything, and even though she was barefoot and walking through a damp clearing, no dirt clung to her feet when she approached Gabriel. 

He caught smaller details as she got closer. Her nails were painted a delicate blue, and her left arm wasn’t an  _ arm,  _ because she was missing it.

It was a branch, nearest Gabriel could figure. It was the same color as her skin, and flawlessly cleared of twigs or leaves. It was shaped like her other arm, perfectly mirroring it, but there was no mistaking the barky texture of the tree-arm. 

“You’re the new Reaper, I take it?” She eyed him with critical disapproval, and indignation flared up again, brighter than before. 

“Yeah.” He said. 

“That is one of my cattle.” 

“Oh.” Gabriel shifted, trying to figure out how to get off without an awkward landing. Mugir lowed softly and knelt, letting him get off without a painful dismount. “Sorry.” 

The woman looked at the cow, brows furrowed. She looked back at Gabriel. “She says you’ve named her.” 

Gabriel wanted to argue, since Mugir hadn’t even mooed or anything, so how could this woman know what Mugir said? He knew better than to say anything, though, and he just shrugged the slightest bit. 

“I can see pleasantry is not for you. That suits me fine. I have a quarrel, and I need you to mediate.” 

“Um, what?” 

Her brow arched. “I refuse to believe the Reaper would pick someone dim-witted. I need you to do your job.” 

“Right  _ now?”  _ Gabriel asked, dismayed. 

“Yes.” 

“I’ve been Reaper for a few  _ days.  _ I need some more time to recover, I can barely fucking  _ walk.”  _ Gabriel objected hotly. 

“Inexcusable.” The woman cocked her head. “Your presence will be enough to persuade her. Climb back on… Urgh… ‘Mugir’. I will take you to the site of my disagreement.” 

Mugir mooed hopefully, and Gabriel reluctantly settled himself back on top of her. The strange woman led Mugir at a brisk pace, heading through a path juuuuust broad enough for a full-grown cow to squeeze through. 

“My name is Satya.” The woman said plainly. “I am a dryad. The person I am taking you to see is called Hana, and she is a naiad.” 

“A what?” 

An impatient sound from Satya. “This is the problem with  _ human  _ Reapers. How can someone so ignorant be put into a position of such power?” 

“Becoming the Reaper wasn’t exactly my  _ choice,  _ you know.” Gabriel replied, bristling. 

“Very well.” Satya’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “A dryad is a tree nymph. A naiad is a water nymph. Is that simple enough for you?” 

“It is, thanks.” Gabriel replied sourly. “What’s the problem you two have been having?” 

“You’ll see.” Satya shook her head slightly. 

The dryad led Mugir ( and by extension, Gabriel ) through the forest path without another word. Gabriel wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought the trees and bushes might’ve been politely staying out of their path, but it could’ve just been swaying in the wind. They eventually arrived on the bank of a river, fast and vicious, cutting over smooth stones in its bed. There weren’t sandbanks so much as pebbles- A cursory glance found strewn cans of Doritos, Mountain Dew, and various other junk food and sodas nestled in the pebbles.

“We are here,” Satya announced. “Dismount.” 

Mugir kneeled again, allowing Gabriel to get off. He kept a hand balanced on her withers for support. 

He sneezed again, and was slightly relieved but also slightly concerned that he didn’t teleport this time. 

“Are you sick?” Satya leaned away from him, concern and disgust clouding her face. 

“Not with anything you can catch.” Gabriel sneezed violently, and she sidestepped out of the way. She seemed to judge him, as if she was assessing if he was up for his new job. She seemed to decide he was, because she left him alone and waded ankle-deep into the river.

“Hana, there is someone here to settle this.” 

A young girl- no more than twenty- surged up from under the water. Chubby cheeks. Intelligent brown eyes, deft, practiced fingers. She was thin and delicate, even moreso than Satya, pale skin and…  _ Korean  _ features, maybe? She had on a crop-top T-shirt and short, ripped jeans, streaks of purplish-pink paint across her cheeks. Slightly  _ impish  _ in appearance, with a wicked grin and a face that suggested innocence and mischief in equal measure. If she were, like, twelve, Gabriel would’ve pegged her as the type to push somebody over and blame another kid for doing it. 

Gabriel opened his Sight, intending to get a good look at this ‘Hana’. 

Mugir was the first one he noticed. Honeyed milk, creamy and sweet. Muscle, mass, warm brown eyes, flicking ears and the buzz of flies. Stampeding hooves, massive chest. A surprising gentleness, something Gabriel could vaguely identify as associated with motherhood, and underneath all of that, something that was undeniably  _ cow.  _ He wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, just that it was  _ cow.  _

He Saw the dryad next. Blooming flowers, the scent of honeysuckle and jasmine, a glimpse of cattle. Symmetry, a forest with evenly spaced trees and polite plants. Love, locked away where no one was supposed to glimpse it. A twitch that Gabriel couldn’t quite identify- Not a flaw, not a defect, but a _difference_ in a normal thought, in a normal pattern. When he tried to pursue it, it remained a quiet, noble enigma. He left that alone and continued to look elsewhere. Crooked paintings that were promptly righted. Neatly stacked dishes. Satisfaction at a job well done. Pride in oneself, in what they do- A whisper of magic, that made trees grow strong and obey her gestures. The prosthetic tree limb was proud of being part of her, and sang sweetly with the sang melody of the birds and the murmur of the mystical. Neatness, methodically, frustration when the obvious patterns no one else saw weren’t obeyed.  For a flickering moment, he thought he understood that _twitch,_ and the name of it was on the tip of his tongue, but it had gone a moment too early. A good heart, underneath scorn and indifference. 

He turned his Sight on Hana. 

If it was possible to get slapped in every single one of your senses, it’s what it felt like. His ears, his eyes, his tongue, his face, his nose, and that mysterious and mystical sense was metaphorically backhanded and left to crumple on the ground. 

He blinked rapidly and worked his jaw, trying to recover from the shock. She hadn’t locked him out, but she as a person was…  _ Overwhelming.  _

Sweetness, as if he’d swallowed pure sugar, then saltiness, as if he’d washed it down with salt crystals. A wink, two fingers in a peace sign, an impish smile. Reflexes and speed that Gabriel could only dream of. A burning competitive spirit, bright and hot enough to burn the competition to ashes but not get scorched herself. A touch of narcissism, overconfidence, disregard for others, hunger for  _ fame.  _ Stirring coffee and Mountain Dew into the same mug and downing it without fear. The epitome of a word Gabriel had heard back in his thirties, a trend that had lingered for a while- She was  _ #YOLO,  _ in blazing neon pink lights. White-haired rabbits, with quivering pink noses and baleful pink eyes, claws sharpened and whiskers flicking. Floating hearts, a confident laugh, a language Gabriel didn’t know that seemed to implicate a smile and a wink in its tone. Water, flooding and surging over her opponents, tumultuous rapids and torpid streams. Rocks eroded and chipped away in her wake, water endlessly flowing without stopping regardless of who was in the way of the deluge. 

He was still internally gagging from tasting the coffee/Mountain Dew combo, even when he closed his Sight. God, he  _ never  _ wanted to taste that again. He’d sooner wash out his mouth with river water. 

The naiad was staring at him with undisguised shock, while the dryad looked incredibly  _ smug.  _

“You got the Reaper!?” She squeaked at Satya, going slightly pale. 

“Yes, I did. He’ll clean up your act.” Satya tilted her chin up, satisfaction implied in both her face and voice. 

“Yeah!?” Hana balled her tiny hands into fists. She turned her eyes in his direction- Dark brown, furious. “You don’t scare me!” 

Gabriel had to suppress the urge to laugh. She couldn’t have weighed any more than a hundred pounds soaking wet ( which she was ) and was at least half a foot his inferior. If she seriously thought she could fight  _ him  _ and win…

Well, she was probably right. He was only on his feet at present because he was clinging to Mugir for support. 

“What’s the problem?” He addressed Satya.

“She has polluted herself with human waste.” Satya’s disdainful gaze is set on the strewn litter. “And  _ refuses  _ to clean up.” 

“Is that all?” Gabriel said, slightly dismayed. Was this literally a “my roommate isn’t cleaning their room!” debate? He thought he’d have to decide massive blood feuds, not complaints of people not picking up after their garbage. Well. It was no different than being an officer, he guessed. As a policeman, they got complaints ranging from a little kid littering to people calling saying they’d just been shot. 

“The ecosystem has to remain in balance,” Satya hissed. “Perfect harmony, that there _ cannot be _ if this filth is not  _ removed!”  _

“Can’t you pick it up yourself?” Gabriel asked. 

“Nope!” Hana singsonged. “It’s in  _ my  _ river, so she can’t touch it!” 

Gabriel took his hand off of Mugir, forcing his shaking legs to move. He waded ankle-deep into the water, thanking Mondatta for how none of the water seeped past the boots and into his socks, and stood before Hana.

Hana glared at him unflinchingly, standing as tall as she could. “You can’t do anything either!” She told him, squaring up her shoulders. “You’re the Reaper, but this is  _ my  _ river, and I can do what I want with it!” 

Gabriel felt… Strange.

Almost a sense of deja vu. He had done this before, except he was sure he hadn’t, because he would remember…

His body knew exactly what it was doing, even if his mind didn’t.

Gabriel’s legs stopped shaking. All the tiny aches and pains that had been worming through his body since he became the Reaper vanished, leaving him with a cold, self-confident  _ strength.  _ His entire body was liquid iron- Graceful, powerful, strong. He stood taller, raised his chin. A glimmer of unease cut through Hana’s eyes. 

“Clean out your river.” Gabriel said softly, just barely audible above the burble of the water over rock. 

“No,” She said, shaky but defiant. 

“Clean out your river.” He repeated. 

“No! You can’t push me around, I don’t care if you’re the Reaper!” 

Her hand collided with his face, and pain faintly stung against his cheek from her slap.  

There was a beat of silence. Hana drew back her hand, obviously worried she’d crossed some kind of line that shouldn’t be crossed. 

Gabriel unceremoniously spat into the river, a glob of blackish blood along with saliva. 

Then Gabriel surged forward, fist flying to grab her throat. He had a heartbeat of hesitation, but he knew exactly what to do, as if he’d done it a million times. Instinct drove him, instinct told him precisely what to do, and he saw no reason to not comply. 

He reached into Hana.

He knew precisely where it was, exactly what he was looking for. He closed his fist around it and jerked it free from Hana with a sharp, precise jerk. 

The naiad, who had been ferociously struggling against his hold, abruptly went still in his grip. 

Gabriel looked down at his hand with a detached form of fascination. In his palm he held a small…  _ Thing,  _ about the size of a grapefruit and just about as round. It pulsed a soft pink in color, a small, nearly translucent tail wiggling so it appeared almost as a teardrop in shape. 

Gabriel tilted his head, wondering what it was. Something in him quietly urged him to open his mouth and eat it. He raised it slightly, closer to his face, and his mouth watered.

He didn’t know what it was, but was going to taste good. His brain told him that- it was going to be the best thing he’d ever eaten. It would fill him with warmth, with strength, rid him of hunger and pain and whatever else made his mortal body hurt. 

He was suddenly whiplashed back to reality; it was as if he’d been on the edge of a cliff, leaning over to look, and just then realized just how long the drop was. 

Satya was screaming something in a language he didn’t know, hands grasped around his forearm and attempting to jerk his hand away from his mouth. Her nails scraped against the soft flesh of his inner elbow, but she was too weak to stop him. Or, perhaps, maybe he was too strong. 

_ Something is wrong  _ came to his mind, immediately chased by  _ I’m hungry and this is going to taste good.  _

He parted his lips slightly, about to unconsciously put the  _ thing  _ in his mouth and swallow, but he glanced back at Hana, only on her feet because Gabriel had her by the throat. 

She had no pulse. 

It occurred to him, strangely. The thought felt almost foreign. 

She was dead.

_ I did that,  _ he realized faintly.  _ I killed her.  _

He moved his gaze back to the small, tear-drop shaped blob currently quivering in his palm. 

_ I took this out, and it killed her. What is this?  _

Everything felt slow. Dreamlike. 

_ Can I put it back?  _

Gabriel reluctantly lowered it away from his lips. His body cried out to him, desperate and unhappy, and he had to absentmindedly lick away a strand of drool that’d come from his watering mouth. His  _ everything  _ protested against him reaching back into the naiad and quietly slotting the  _ thing  _ back into place. 

Hana’s eyes shot open, and she breathed sharply, deeply. She was quiet, still, eyes wide and  _ terrified.  _

Gabriel let her go as if he’d been burned, and staggered several steps back until he collided with a tree.

His chest heaved, and realization of what’d happened abruptly slammed down on him. 

_ Holy shit. I ripped out her fucking soul. I fucking ripped out her soul and killed her.  _

Hana had her hands in her face, the sounds of soft, ragged sobs tickling Gabriel’s ears. Satya kneeled next to her, uncertain but attempting to comfort. 

And Gabriel distinctly sensed it was time for him to go. He shot Mugir a worried glance, and the cow took several startled steps in the other direction. 

Gabriel felt a sneeze coming on, and wished it would take him somewhere else. 

He sneezed. 

And when he opened his eyes, his wish had been granted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update, and would like to announce that in the coming weeks of December, chapters are going to be more and more spotty. My finals are next week and I can't sacrifice my grade to work on this little fic anymore :( 
> 
> It's becoming more and more obvious that my "finished before 2017" deadline is going to be physically impossible, what with all of the loose plot threads we need to come together- Thus far, I still have Liao's identity, Jack and Gabriel getting together, the resolution of Zenyatta's issue, and several plot curves that I have to hammer home. There is no way in hell I could get through all of that, plus finals, before 2017, and for that, I apologize. 
> 
> Fun fact: Mugir's name wasn't chosen randomly. Google it :P


	26. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Gabriel get some time to themselves, and Jack succumbs to the griffin within.

Jack looked up as a soft sound met his ears. 

A gaping void about six feet tall and a foot wide appeared in front of him without the slightest bit of  warning.

It was vaguely man-shaped and was faintly emanating a soft, pleasant humming sound. However, the ‘void’, upon further inspection, was not a  _ void  _ at all, but a substance somewhere between  _ smoke  _ and a semi-solid ooze. 

When it cleared, Gabriel Reyes stood before him.

The fledgeling Reaper looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back. 

He was also dressed in what looked to be some kind of tunic / robe hybrid, as well as a pair of boots that’d be accustomed to trekking through snow. These very same boots were, curiously enough, sopping wet, as if Gabriel had been in a few inch deep puddle and freshly stepped out. 

He was shivering pathetically, and when he looked at Jack, the fledgeling Reaper’s eyes seemed to look right through him. 

It was a hollowed-out, terrible look that made Jack’s gut twist into knots. The  _ only  _ time he’d ever seen  _ anyone  _ look like that…

Recruits, when they’d first killed a man, or failed to save one of their squadmates. It was shock, exhaustion, regret,  _ pain,  _ and, to a lesser extent, fear. 

Gabriel almost immediately collapsed, but Jack surged forward to support him. He knew, as a fact, that the Reaper had weighed more the last time Jack had carried him. 

“I’ve got you.” Jack muttered. He had to awkwardly shuffle backwards, maneuvering between the chains that kept him bound to the wall and the unconscious Reaper. Jack attempted to get Gabriel on the bed, but the goddamn chains made it  _ incredibly  _ difficult. 

A surge of frustration shot through him, but he forced it down and opted for something else. He sat down on the floor, rearranging Gabriel so the back of his head could comfortably rest in Jack’s lap. 

“What happened to you?” Jack wondered aloud, fingers threading through Gabriel’s hair.

As prideful, stubborn, and angry as the fledgeling Reaper could be, Gabriel was just as terrified as any other mortal man. He had said as much when they were trekking through the forest all those days ago- and those touches, those wordless requests for comfort, they were not a  _ mistake.  _ Gabriel was a confused mortal man pitched unceremoniously into a world of magic- no matter how tenacious, how strong, how furious, eventually you were going to get overwhelmed, particularly if you had to become the  _ Reaper.  _

Gabriel made a soft, pathetic little noise, shifting slightly. 

In a soft, husky voice, Jack said, “Gabriel?” 

“Merr’ Chris’mas.” Gabriel mumbled. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing muted red eyes that had once been a vivid, handsome shade of brown. “Jack?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m tired.” A laugh that revealed more exhaustion than his words ever did. “Think I… Think I burned out.” Gabriel blinked very slowly, then sighed, his eyelids fluttering shut.

_ He looks so exhausted.  _ Jack thought, uneasily. “You’re with me now, Gabe.” 

“Yeah. I wanted to be here.” He mumbled. “I fucked up.” 

That could be interpreted in a number of ways- Jack chose to think positively, and assume it wasn’t that terrible of a fuck-up. “How?” 

“I…” Gabriel’s brow furrowed slightly, making his skin crease. “I lost control.” 

“Lost control?” 

“I pulled out her soul, and I thought…” Gabriel paused a moment. “I thought  _ this is going to be delicious.  _ I almost  _ ate  _ it.” 

There was a catch to his voice, the precursor for a hysteric sob. 

“It’s… Well-known that the Reaper devours the souls of his enemies…” Jack uncomfortably wondered who ‘she’ was. Angela, perhaps?

“She was a girl. Barely an adult.” Gabriel shuddered unpleasantly. “She… A nymph. A water nymph. I just… I reached into her and…” 

“Gabe, it’s alright-” 

“It’s not!” Gabriel’s eyes opened, burning a hotter shade of red than before. “I wanted it. I had to fucking  _ force  _ myself to not scarf it down like a fucking- like a fucking  _ savage. _ She had a friend. Another nymph- She was screaming and trying to stop me, and I didn’t  _ feel  _ a damn thing.” 

Jack’s gaze wandered to Gabriel’s right arm. The crook of his elbow was decorated with fresh marks- the white tracks of scraping nails, occasionally splitting into a cut with fresh dots of black tar instead of blood. 

There was a heartbeat of pause. They laid there, together, in silence, for a long while. 

“I’m a monster.” Gabriel whispered. 

“You’re the  _ Reaper.”  _ Jack corrected. 

“What’s the difference?” Gabriel asked churlishly. 

“You may be the Reaper’s host, but you’re different. You don’t have to do anything the Reaper commands you-”  

“And then I die early, because I’m a shitty Reaper.” Gabriel mumbled, shaking his head. “I wanted to eat it so  _ fucking  _ bad, Jack, you don’t- you don’t  _ understand.”  _

“Gabe.” Jack swept a hand through Gabriel’s hair. Worry, frustration, and  _ fear  _ clouded the new Mantle’s face. “It’s alright.” 

“No, it’s  _ not,  _ Jack, stop trying to-” 

“I don’t think you’re a monster, Gabe.” Jack told him quietly. 

There was a moment of silence, and Gabriel let out a soft, miserable sigh. 

“You’re too nice.” 

“No, I’m not. Look, if you were a monster, you wouldn’t be so upset about this.” 

“I’m not  _ upset.”  _ Gabriel mumbled. 

“Yes, you are.” Jack’s fingers threaded through Gabriel’s hair again. The new Reaper did not acquiesce to this, but he did not argue it, either. “Tell me what happened.”

“I tried to settle an argument between nymphs. It… It went bad.” 

“No one died, right?” 

“No, but-” 

“No one died, Gabriel. You did the best you could. You resisted whatever urges you had.” 

“I-” A beat of hesitation. “I guess.” 

“I’m proud of you, you know.” 

“Jack,” A strangled groan. “I’m not a fucking kid. I don’t need a gold star for not murdering someone.” 

The griffin cracked a tiny grin. “I don’t give out gold stars unless you eat all your vegetables and do all your homework.”

“Fuck you, Jack.”

“That’s no way to speak to your elder.” 

Gabriel groaned again and attempted to sit up. 

“Careful,” Jack cautioned. “I don’t think you should strain yourself.” 

“Did you miss my ‘fuck you, Jack’? That means I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I want, regardless of what you say.” Gabriel barked. He managed to prop himself up on his elbows, but he couldn’t go any further before he collapsed and had to pant for breath. “ _ Fuck.”  _

“Need some help?” Jack asked, trying to keep a sliver of amusement out of his voice.

“No.” Gabriel looked up at him, glaring coolly. Although Gabriel’s red eyes weren’t as quite as nice as his old brown, they were much more…  _ Vivid,  _ and far more expressive. When he was angry, they shimmered a multitude of hot, fiery reds, mingling with orange to create a fascinating lava-esque color. Exhaustion had prompted them to cool off to a dull greyish-red, like old coals.

“I think you’re probably better off lying down, Gabe.” 

“Fuck you,” He spat again, trying and failing to rise. “Fuck. Help me up.” 

“I don’t know-” 

“ _ Please.”  _ Gabriel interrupted. 

It was the magic word- How could Jack, in good conscience, not help him?

Jack aided the Mantle into getting to his feet, and Gabriel coughed uncomfortably, sending flecks of dark fluid and saliva in everywhich direction. Jack instinctively ducked out of the way, and Gabriel mumbled something that could’ve been an apology. 

“I didn’t think this through,” Gabriel muttered- Jack assumed he was talking to himself. 

“Didn’t think what through?” 

“Getting up.” 

“Do you want to lay back down?” Jack prompted.

There was a moment of silence, where Gabriel clung to him like he was holding on for dear life. Gabriel seemed to weigh his options, pursing his lips and staring at the ground.

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Jack quietly helped him back down- mid-way through, Gabriel violently sneezed. 

He disappeared from Jack’s grasp with a curl of black smoke that dissipated into the thin air. 

Well. 

“Gabe?” Jack called softly. 

There was no response. 

Shit. 

Some Reaper power? He had heard accounts of teleportation, or turning to mist. Liao had been a veritable wealth of information on the Reaper, but she had also been cagey even when Jack was her superior officer. He had always got the impression Liao knew more than she was letting on, but he’d never pressed her. You lost trust when you tried to pry for information- and trust was the most important thing you could have when you had comrades. 

Jack sat down, sighing gently. 

The room was cold. And boring. Gabriel’s presence had made being here a lot more  _ tolerable.  _ It wasn’t the first time he’d ever been imprisoned, but it  _ was  _ the first time he’d been imprisoned and incapable of shifting back to his real body. 

The griffin roiled within him, full of impatient, anxious energy that longed to be relieved. He should’ve known that the Reaper’s cult would be cautious enough to have cuffs that prevented shapeshifting. 

Now that Gabriel had gone and Jack had nothing to do, he attempted, once again, to ( vainly ) take on his true form. The cuffs effectively suppressed that little click in him that let him shift, leaving a feeling of bone-chilling emptiness and helplessness. 

There was nothing as uniquely distressing as not being able to revert back to your original form. 

Jack felt like a tiger pacing in a cage, which altogether worked both as a metaphor and reality. He was a griffin in human skin, and it was maddening to not be able to rip that very same skin off at his leisure. How did humans stand being  _ human  _ all the time? Human bodies were deaf, anosmic, flightless; they were small and so damnably  _ fragile  _ in comparison to a griffin. Ever since Gabriel had taken on the Mantle, Jack had been worried that Gabriel’s human body would collapse under the strain of the Reaper. 

Who’s bright idea had it been to make a Reaper a human? 

Male or female, at the physical peak of health, humans were still so easy to  _ break.  _ There was a reason Overwatch had been almost entirely composed of magical  _ creatures  _ and not humans or wizards.

It took almost two hours, but the same black void appeared, just as it had before. 

Jack stood up like he’d just sat on a tack and held out his arms, just in case Gabriel needed a quick support to not fall over. 

He looked a little better than he had before. Tired, but maybe a  _ little  _ more rested than he’d been last time he teleported here. Snowflakes dusted his curly black hair, a couple of them on his shoulders. He noticed Jack, and his eyes lit up happily. He was certainly less dazed than he’d been last time.

“Jack,” Gabriel had two cups full of some kind of brown liquid, one of which he quickly shoved into Jack’s hands. “That’s yours.” 

“Thanks?” Jack looked down at it. Either tea or coffee- It had been watered down with so much milk that it was indistinguishable from the other. 

“Mondatta said it was supposed to help.” Gabriel’s hands shook, and he chugged the entire cup in one deep pull. 

“Mondatta?” 

“He’s a djinn. In Nepal.” Gabriel mumbled. 

“He’s the Shambali leader, right?” Jack asked. 

“Yeah. I asked him if he could help me, he told me to drink the tea. I brought you some.” Gabriel sniffed, then wiped his nose off with his knuckles. 

Jack tried it. Bitter, with an exotic flare that he almost wanted to call… Cinnamon? Not quite cinnamon though. It clogged the back of his throat and he had to fight not to cough. He swallowed down all the liquid he’d sipped, as to not be rude, and said, “It’s alright.” 

“Don’t need to lie to me, Jack, it takes like shit.” Gabriel muttered, licking his lips and wrinkling his nose at the taste. 

“Wait a second, you said Mondatta was in Nepal?” Something had suddenly clicked for Jack. “How did you-” 

“The Reaper can teleport.” Gabriel waved the question away. “God, I’ve been all over the fucking planet.” 

“Sit down, tell me about it.” Jack gestured to the floor, and Gabriel seemed happy to comply. 

The fledgeling Reaper regaled Jack with the tales of how he’d gone to France, to the middle of the ocean, to a Nepali monastery, to a dozen other different places.

“Wait, stop.” Jack held up a hand. “Did you mention- You mentioned a house with a griffin, right?” 

“Uh, yeah. I wasn’t there for very long.” 

“Did you get a good look around?” Jack asked. His brain was wondering,  _ what if….  _

“I guess? There was a shitty old truck in the driveway. Driveway was made of gravel. House was old, made of wood-” 

“That truck, was it gray?” 

“Uh, yeah, I think so…” 

“Did you get the plates?” 

“Started with a T.” 

That wasn’t a confirmation, but goddamn it  _ sounded  _ pretty close to Jack’s old house. “Gabriel, I think you might’ve dropped onto my parent’s doorstep!” 

“Shit, seriously?” 

“That griffin, what did they look like?” 

“I dunno. White and a little bit gold?” 

“Must’ve been Pa.” Jack tried and failed to suppress his smile. 

“Shit, sorry.” Gabriel scratched the back of his neck. 

“It’s fine.” Jack tried the tea again. It was still terrible. “I only wish I would’ve been there to see it.” 

“Do you not like your dad?” Gabriel asked, a touch curious. 

“We’re not  _ great.  _ He’s a traditionalist. ‘You should be hoarding treasure back on the farm with us, John, not getting involved with Overwatch!’. Things like that.” 

Gabriel made a slight choking sound. “Your real name is  _ John?”  _

“Yeah.” Jack squared his shoulders slightly.

“Okay.” Gabriel very poorly hid his snicker behind his hand. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault your parents gave you a basic white boy’s name.” 

“Well, I-” One of Jack’s most unfortunate features was that his ears always went bright, eye-bleeding  _ red  _ whenever he got angry or embarrassed. He could feel the hot blood surging through the tips of his ears, and he tried to ignore it. He searched for a playful insult, but he couldn’t think of one that wasn’t a Reaper-related jab or a racial barb, and he wasn’t about to make either one. “Shut up, Gabe.” 

“Sure,  _ Joooohn.”  _

Jack punched him in the shoulder, the careless grin on Gabriel’s face managing to dig right into his nerves. 

“You still hit like a girl, lily-white.” 

“I’ll show  _ you  _ like a girl!” 

It was the griffin’s instincts that made Jack do it- he pounced on the fledgeling Reaper. Play-wrestling persisted as a “thing-griffins-do-with-their-friends” even past childhood, although it was viewed as somewhat childish. 

Gabriel grunted in protest, attempting to throw Jack off. “You’re heavy, Jack, get off! You’re gonna fucking crush me!” 

“Who’s the girl now?” Jack asked playfully. 

Gabriel took him up on the playfighting, neatly and precisely throwing Jack off by kneeing him in the gut and forcing him off with both arms. “Should’ve pinned my arms,  _ idiota!”  _

“Don’t give me any ideas,” Jack panted, lunging back at Gabriel. Gabriel rolled with the motion, and the two of them flailed around as a tangle of limbs until Gabriel ended up on top of him. Jack immediately moved to do the same trick Gabriel had, but the fledgeling Reaper pinned him by the wrists and sat down on Jack’s thighs. 

“You’re still looking like the girl here, lily-white.” Gabriel said, voice containing a hint of smugness. 

Jack wriggled experimentally. “I’m cuffed to the wall, this isn’t fair.” 

“I’m sick,” Gabriel countered. 

“You look fine to me,” Jack shot back.  _ That’s right, keep him talking, think of a way out…  _

“I’ve been sneezing all day!” 

“Not since you got here,” Jack countered. “Not since you drank that tea.” 

Gabriel paused, seeming to consider that. “Maybe Mondatta… Maybe Mondatta meant it’d stop me from sneezing, and  _ that’s  _ how it would help…” 

Well, since Gabriel was so nicely distracted… 

Jack swung his legs upwards and slammed his knees into Gabriel’s upper back, knocking him forward and dislodging him from his seat on Jack’s thighs. In this chaos, Jack managed to slip his hands free of the fledgeling Reaper’s grip. He snatched Gabriel by the waist, hastily flipping him on his front while he was momentarily out of it. 

Gabriel sputtered in protest, flailing in an attempt to regain his balance. Jack moved quicker than the fledgeling Reaper, and sat down on the small of his back, leaning forward to pin Gabriel’s wrists.

Gabriel jerked and wriggled, trying to get Jack off of him, but Jack held him down through weight and sheer strength.

“This isn’t fair,” Gabriel yowled. 

“I said the same thing.” Jack told him, not bothering to hide the slight smugness in his voice. “But  _ you  _ ignored me.” 

“You tricked me,” Gabriel bucked his hips, but Jack remained firmly planted on his back. “Ugh! Jack-” 

The fledgeling Reaper suddenly broke into a horrible coughing fit. Jack hastily got off Gabriel to let him breathe, anxiously staring at the fledgeling Reaper.

“Gabriel? Gabe, are you okay?” 

“Jack,” Gabriel croaked. His body shook as he was rocked with another bout of coughing.

“Gabe?” Jack leaned in further, worried that roughhousing had been  _ too rough.  _

“Jack… You’re fucking gullible!” Gabriel lunged at him, taking Jack completely off guard. The griffin yelped as Gabriel came down on him, knocking the breath clean from Jack’s lungs. He threw one arm around Jack’s throat in a headlock, and Jack vaguely caught sight of a toothy, self-satisfied smile on the fledgeling Reaper’s face.

“That was dirty!” Jack complained. 

“But it worked, didn’t it?” Gabriel flexed slightly, making Jack’s grunt at the extra pressure. “I can’t believe you  _ fell  _ for that.” A pause, and Jack could  _ hear  _ the asshole’s smile as he continued. “You know, someone wrote  _ gullible  _ on the ceiling.” 

Jack suppressed the urge to look up. “Alright, alright. You win.” 

Gabriel let him go without another word, giving Jack a playful, triumphant smile. Ignoring the fact that Gabriel was really handsome when he smiled, the Reaper looked incredibly mussed. Despite the chill of the room, he’d broken out in a light sweat- his hair was tousled by the playfighting, his clothes disheveled. 

“What do I win, huh?” Gabriel sat down with a soft groan of relief. 

“Does it look like I have anything to give you?” Jack asked dryly, gaze sweeping around his ( incredibly modest ) cell. 

“I guess you’re right.” Gabriel said, a frown sliding over his face. “Hey, uh- If I… You know, told Angela or Amelie or one of the golems to let you go, would you, um, go?” 

Jack had been thinking about that. A lot, actually. 

“I don’t think they’d let me go at this point.” 

“That’s bullshit. I’m the Reaper, I can  _ make  _ them let you go.” 

“Well. I’ve gotten used to helping you out. I don’t think I could ditch you and let you face those harpies all by yourself.” 

Gabriel’s voice was soft, quiet. “Thanks.” 

“What’re you thanking me for?” Jack glanced at him, slightly bemused. “I haven’t done anything yet.” 

“I would’ve gone fucking crazy without you, lily-white.” Gabriel mumbled. He sat up, giving Jack a once-over. He scooted over on his hands and knees, sitting down beside Jack. The fledgeling Reaper gingerly lifted up Jack’s hands, the chains on the cuffs clinking softly. “Can’t you turn into a griffin and break these?” 

“They’re enchanted. We had them back in Overwatch- They keep magical creatures from transforming. Besides, it’s solid steel. I’m not sure I could break them, even transformed.” 

Gabriel stared down at the cuffs for a long while. His lips were pursed slightly ( Jack looked away- they were giving him uncomfortable thoughts ) and his eyes were rigidly focused on the cold metal. They flared up from dull mahogany to cherry red, and Gabriel held up his hand. Two of his fingers dissolved into purplish-black smoke, leaving the stumps Gabriel had the last time Jack saw him. 

The mist delved into the small keyhole of the cuffs- Gabriel closed his eyes and breathed out deeply. Sweat trickled down the new Mantle’s temple, following the curve of his cheekbone. 

His eyes flickered open a moment later, and he reached forward with his full-fingered hand. He batted at the cuff and it clanked to the ground, unlocked.

“What did you do?” Jack asked, looking down at his newly bare wrist in fascination. 

“I unlocked it.” 

“How?” 

“I’m not…” Gabriel started, hesitantly. He changed tack. “I used my fingers as a lockpick. I applied pressure in the right places, and… It’s hard to describe.” 

“Can you get the other one?” Jack asked, excitement bubbling in him now that freedom was in his grasp. The griffin slammed up into his soul, begging and pleading to be released after being forcibly dormant for so long. 

“Yeah.” Smoke slithered out of the metal cuff, drifting towards the other. “Hold on.” 

Gabriel closed his eyes. He picked the lock faster than the first time, and Jack removed the cuff.

The tendril of mist slithered obediently back to Gabriel’s hand, curling and solidifying into fingers once again. He flexed them, looking down at his digits with slight satisfaction.

Jack was abruptly hit with a desperate urge to shift his form- Without his commanding, his wings violently split out of his back, swiftly growing sheets of white feathers. It was an uncontrollable, violent change- His fingers ripped and tore to accommodate the bulk of his paws, his spine cracked and split as his tail shot out. His bones snapped and ground as they reoriented themselves in Jack’s body, and he convulsed as the brutal change swept through him unbidden. 

Jack barely fit in the room anymore. It wasn’t accommodating for something of his huge bulk.

His nostrils flared, taking in scents. Sweat, in abundance. His own scent, although that of the the pathetic human shell he occasionally inhabited and not his vastly more powerful body. Another human, nearby, reeking of decay and Jack’s own smell. Curious. He swung his broad head in the human’s direction, wrinkling his nose and parting his jaws to get a better sample of his smell. 

The scent of decay and death that the human bore was troubling. He was not undead, nor was the scent near the dead. It was a familiar, terrible scent that he had come to associate with danger. This human, small and unassuming as it was, posed a very serious threat. 

Jack considered his options, leaning away from the human. His hind legs lifted, tail lashing. His wings raised of their own accord, ears flattened and head down. If Jack was in for a fight, he would swat the little fleshy man’s head clean off his shoulders.

There was a burbling, chattery sound that Jack thought he should vaguely recognize. Ah. Human speech. He made an effort to comprehend. 

“- in there? Jack?”

Jack. The human sound that signified  _ himself.  _ The human was addressing him, then, and in a nonthreatening way. 

“You’re fucking scary like that. I forgot how goddamn big you were.” The human mumbled. He had shrunk slightly, clinging to the wall. Fear. The human was not intending on fighting him, which was good. Despite his tiny size and lack of muscle, the human could still pose a  _ very  _ serious threat if he had the Gift. Jack would have to watch out for him, even if fighting wasn’t on his mind. 

Jack’s ears perked as his enclosure opened. A door had been thrown wide, bearing cold, fresh air and new smells into the room. A creation smelling of rock and flame trundled in almost as soon as the door opened. Jack unpleasantly recalled the being- He had fought two of them, and when he had attacked them, they had refused to break or yield even under his most powerful blows. He flared his wings out, a growl rumbling through him, addressing the creation. 

It made a soft, birdlike noise, and Jack ran instead of attacked. He just  _ barely  _ managed to slip through the aperture in his prison, galloping down the wooden hallway and bounding down a set of stairs. 

He could vaguely hear the shouting of the human from upstairs, but he could feel the forest beckoning to him. 

Time to go home. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looks like Gabriel has to clean up his mess, AGAIN
> 
> // im not dead guys i promise
> 
> new chapter on Saturday, because over the course of Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday I have 7 finals to take


	27. Leaps and Binds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel attempts to convince Jack into humanity once again, meets Zenyatta, and discovers another new ability.

Gabriel stared out at the open door, still trying to process.

It had seemed almost inconceivable that Jack- the man he had been playfully wrestling with only twenty minutes ago- had turned into a brainless monster roughly the size of a truck. Especially difficult to think about when he had watched Jack frantically scurry out of his cell like some kind of frightened wild animal. Almost impossible to conceive that a dangerous griffin was now on the loose, and could potentially attack Angela, Amelie, or Zenyatta. It was very easy for realization to crash down on Gabriel that  _ this is all my fault  _ and  _ oh God I fucked up bad again.  _

“Hey!” Gabriel lurched into a run, heading for the door. Each step was dangerous, uncertain whether or not it would end up in taking a spill, but he still moved. “Jack! Jack, come back! I’m  _ sorry-”  _

“Gabriel!” Angela spotted him-  _ shit-  _ and immediately charged towards him, feathers bouncing with every step. “Gabriel, oh  _ mein Gott-”  _

“Angela, we’ve got a griffin on the loose, save the catching up for later!” Gabriel barked. From somewhere down the stairs, there was a massive shattering  _ crash  _ that was almost comic. There was the skitter of nails on wood. 

“Gabriel, what did you  _ do?”  _

“I let Jack out of his cuffs,” Gabriel groaned internally, already bracing himself for the lecture. 

“You did  _ what? How?”  _ Angela’s composure was momentarily forgotten. Her blue eyes were wide, round with shock and ( to a lesser degree ) disappointment. 

“I used my powers to pick the lock, but I didn’t  _ know  _ he was gonna do  _ this!”  _ Gabriel defended himself. 

“I’m not sure whether to be furious with you or impressed with your ability.” Angela ground her teeth. 

“Let’s go with the second one.” 

“I’m thinking both.” She did not look amused. Shit. “Gabriel, you understand that if he harms any of us, I’m going to have to take drastic action.” 

“No!” Gabriel surprised himself at how quick he was to defend Jack. “You- You can’t-” 

“Gabriel, he’s a dangerous  _ animal.  _ The only reason I didn’t have him executed before was because Sombra-” 

“You were going to  _ kill  _ him?” Gabriel took a step back. His heart seemed to shrivel, something frightened and cold. 

“Yes, and I would be  _ completely  _ justified in doing so.” Angela’s feathers fluffed slightly. 

“I  _ won’t  _ let you.” 

“Gabriel, what do you want me to do?” Angela’s cheeks tinged a slight pink. “We can’t have a feral griffin tearing up the mansion!” 

“I’ll talk to him!” 

“Gabriel, at this point you’re  _ far  _ too valuable to risk like that-” 

“What’s the point of  _ having  _ these stupid fucking powers if I can’t use them?” Gabriel snarled, cutting over Angela’s words impatiently. “I’m going downstairs and you’re  _ not  _ gonna stop me.” 

Angela looked as though she wanted to argue, but she swallowed it down. “I suppose… We can think of this as a  _ test…”  _

Thank  _ God.  _ Gabriel did  _ not  _ need Angela trying to fight him every step of the way. 

“Help me down the stairs,” Gabriel requested. After drinking Mondatta’s special tea, he had been feeling a  _ hell  _ of a lot better, but he still didn’t completely trust his legs. Angela supported him all the way down, and together they limped into some kind of foyer. There were open entryways to his right and left, and a big set of heavy wooden double doors in front guarded by those golems. If Gabriel had to guess,  _ that  _ was the way out of the mansion. If he could get another guess, he’d say that Jack did not go out that way. Big claw marks in the wooden floor provided a clear enough picture to point to the fact that Jack had veered left at the sight of the golems. 

“Is he scared of them?” Gabriel asked Angela, glancing at her. The golems didn’t seem that dangerous to  _ him.  _

“When we fought, I had two golems aiding me. Jack learned the hard way that you can’t kill them. I suppose that would be enough to teach him to stay away.”

“You can’t kill them?” Gabriel said, surprised. “They’re immortal?” 

“Not exactly. They  _ do  _ have a weakness, but it’s incredibly difficult to reach.” 

“What is it?” 

“Gabriel, after all you’ve done today, I’m not going to trust you with any more information than you need.” Angela sounds disappointed, and Gabriel winced internally, knowing very well that he deserved it. “As of right now, it’s unimportant. Let’s go.” 

“Excuse me,” A soft voice chimed from nearby. Gabriel turned to look. 

Gabriel’s first impression was that the owner of the voice looked remarkably similar to Mondatta. Gabriel put two and two together and figured that this must be the mysterious djinni, Zenyatta.

He had nine eyes, just like Mondatta, a slightly more vivid shade of blue closer to sky instead of Mondatta’s blind blue. Each of them blinked in tandem, which was still really fucking creepy, and the djinn still had the splotches of golden skin on his throat and over his breastbone that Mondatta possessed. That was where the similarities stopped. Zenyatta had a multitude of thin scars marring his face, pink and crisscrossing. His skin was darker than Mondatta’s, and was without earrings and the grey robes. He wasn’t naked, which was nice, preferring to don a pair of bright yellow, raggedy pants. They’d been stitched neatly enough to suggest constant use but tender care. He was bare-chested though, giving Gabriel a good view of his scrawny frame and allowing him to count every single one of the djinni’s ribs. 

“Ah, Zenyatta-” Angela turned to him. “You should go back to your room.” 

“Not this time, I’m afraid.” 

“There’s a creature on the loose, I insist-” 

“I am here to accompany you.” Zenyatta replied peacefully. “I feel it is my duty to assist.” 

Angela shot a look at Gabriel, a troubled one that plainly said  _ this-is-all-your-fault-I-hate-you-Gabriel  _ but didn’t say anything other than “Alright.” 

The three of them progressed together. Gabriel couldn’t help but glance back at Zenyatta every so often and wonder what Zenyatta could possibly need his help for. From what he had seen of Mondatta, there had been a regal sort of _power_ in the djinni _,_ even without looking at him with his Sight, and Zenyatta seemed to carry the same ethereal strength. 

“I met Mondatta,” Gabriel blurted to Zenyatta after a while of walking. Angela made a slight, surprised noise, but didn’t comment.

“I had assumed as much. Those robes, those boots, they are often given to pilgrims when they seek our monastery. How did you find him?” 

“I teleported…?” 

There was a moment of quiet, and the djinni broke into laughter. It was  _ really  _ creepy-looking, and there wasn’t really a description that could do the weirdness of a laughing djinni justice. 

“Oh! I misspoke.” Zenyatta shook his head slightly. “What did you think of him, is what I  _ meant.”  _

“Oh.” That made a  _ lot  _ more sense, now that Gabriel reflected on it. “He was tall.” 

A soft hum from Zenyatta. 

A question Gabriel had ever since playfighting with Jack overrode anything else he was about to say. “Mondatta gave me tea, and I felt a hell of a lot better after drinking it. What was that stuff?”

The djinni considered it for a moment.

“I don’t know,” Zenyatta said pleasantly. A bit of an anti-climax, in Gabriel’s opinion. 

“Well, whatever it is, it’s good stuff.” 

Another hum from the djinni, that quickly devolved into a soft sound of alert. “I sense the griffin is ahead.” 

“ _ Don’t  _ hurt him.” Gabriel  _ hated  _ the stupid note of childish fear in his voice, and he tried to stamp it out by replacing it with belligerence. “I’m going to talk to him, so don’t get in the way.” 

Zenyatta glanced at him with a smile on his face, as if he were in on a private joke. Gabriel’s face burned. 

Gabriel forcibly recalled what Zenyatta had told him after he had repeatedly tried to probe the djinni with his Sight.

_ And, from what I have managed to glean from your time spent away from your room, affection appears to be another trait in your possession. _

It was stupid. He didn’t  _ like  _ Jack in that way, and even if he did, why would Zenyatta knowing matter? There was no embarrassment in being in a relationship. Also, Gabriel  wasn’t a stupid blushing schoolboy with a crush, and even if he  _ was,  _ Zenyatta wasn’t the kind of person to be a schoolyard bully and tease him about it. 

“Are you uncomfortable, Reaper?” Zenyatta said, voice damnably  _ smooth and in control  _ and  _ oh god he was doing this on purpose.  _

“No!” Gabriel snapped, more ferocity than he intended in his voice. Zenyatta smiled in reply.

“Miss Ziegler, I believe that we should stay back and let Reaper handle this.” The djinni said plainly.

“Absolutely not! Gabriel has progressed, but we went through so much  _ work  _ just to get this  _ one  _ Mantle, he’s much too valuable and vulnerable to go face a full-grown griffin by himself-” 

“Miss Ziegler.” There was a knowing twinkle in Zenyatta’s eyes that made Gabriel supremely uneasy. “I assure you, everything will be fine.” 

That seemed to soothe Angela’s ruffled feathers. She leaned back, taking a deep breath. “Gabriel, don’t be scared to come back to us if your plan fails. Your pride isn’t worth dying over.” 

“I know what I’m doing,” Gabriel said without thinking. “Trust me.” 

“I don’t,” Angela mumbled. Zenyatta laid his hand on hers, meeting her eyes and offering a reassuring nod. 

It was a short trip down a wooden corridor, to a wooden door that’d been clawed clear off its hinges. It looked to be some kind of storage room, piled high with boxes. The entire room was thickly crisscrossed with spiderwebs and dust, and Gabriel wondered how long it’d been since someone came in here. 

Jack had scrambled up on top of some of the tallest crates, claws digging into the wood. Gabriel could see the whites of his eyes, scared and frantic. His ears were pressed back against his skull. 

Jack’s lips peeled back in a snarl, revealing sharp teeth as long as one of Gabriel’s thumbs. 

“Jack, it’s  _ me.”  _ Gabriel told him. “It’s Gabe. I know you’re in there  _ somewhere,  _ lily-white, come on…” 

There was a thin, strange sound that left the griffin. It thickened out into a rattling growl that sounded like a motorcycle starting. An oddly metallic, unnatural sound that made every hair on Gabriel’s body stand up. Hundreds of thousands of years of evolutionary instinct screamed at Gabriel to fucking  _ run,  _ but he stood his ground and held out his hands.

“It’s alright, Jack. It’s just me. You know me. We’re friends. I let you call me Gabe. You’re from Indiana. You don’t like your father. You have a horde of guns in the Los Padres Forest. You saved me from Angela. You’re a golden boy, you got full marks in school-” 

Jack  _ roared,  _ and Gabriel flinched harshly, barely avoiding pissing himself from fear. Jesus  _ Christ,  _ lions were fucking  _ loud, especially  _ in closed spaces. His ears hurt. 

“You knew Liao,” Gabriel persisted. The griffin looked even more wary, although he’d closed his jaws and looked just a shade less  _ I’m-going-to-eat-your-face _ y. “You don’t know what she is. I don’t know what she is. But she’s our friend. You were part of Overwatch. You were the leader for a while.” Jack didn’t seem to understand a word, and Gabriel’s tone took on a slightly more desperate, pleading note. “Come on, white bread. I know you’re in there  _ somewhere.  _ Angela’s going to kill you if you don’t  _ snap out of this,  _ and I can’t fight both of you.” 

A weaker growl left Jack, and Gabriel inched closer, holding out his arms.

“Hey…” Gabriel kept his voice lower, more soothing. “It’s okay, Jack, it’s just me.” 

Jack’s ears twitched, but started to warily drift away from his skull. His jaws parted, massive pink nose twitching as he took in Gabriel’s scent. Gabriel could’ve sworn there was a shred of recognition in those massive blue eyes.

“Yeah… You remember me, don’t you, Jack?” 

Quicker than Gabriel could react, a paw lashed out, slamming  _ hard  _ into Gabriel’s chest. 

Gabriel hit the ground half a second later, just barely managing to avoid bashing his head in on the floor. He landed on his back and his elbow, and he was relieved, for just a split second, that nothing had broken. That was strange, because Jack had hit him really fucking hard. 

In fact, the breath had been knocked clear of his lungs, and his entire body resisted when he tried to draw in a breath, providing a stabbing pain in both of his lungs.

A second later, the ungodly pain hit and Gabriel managed to breathe enough to scream. 

Jack roared again, scrabbling his way off the cabinets and out the door he’d knocked down. If the cries of outrage and surprise were anything to go by, he’d barreled past Angela and Zenyatta.

Angela entered the room, skidding to a halt and kneeling beside Gabriel. “Oh,  _ Gott-  _ I told you this would happen!”

Had Gabriel not been in horrific pain, he would’ve made a smart-aleck comment. As it stood, he made a pained gurgling noise since he didn’t have enough air to scream again. 

Angela fixed him with her magic without any delay, announcing that he had splintered his humerus and bruised a few ribs with the fall. Gabriel didn’t have it in himself to argue with that, but he got up unsteadily and attempted to clear his head. 

“You failed, Gabriel. If not for your robes, he would’ve cut far deeper wounds, and even with my magic, it would’ve left scarring.” Angela scolded him. Gabriel shot her a small glare, letting her know that he  _ already knew that  _ and the information was  _ not helpful.  _ “Surely now you can agree that we need to use more  _ forceful  _ means to subdue him?” 

“No!” Gabriel barked. “I’m going to talk to him again. Jack’s  _ in there.”  _

“Don’t be  _ ridiculous.  _ You ought to go back to your room and let Amelie and I deal with-” 

“I’m going to talk to him, and you can’t  _ fucking  _ stop me, Angela.” Gabriel shoved her away from him and stomped out, heading in the direction Jack had fled. 

Zenyatta awaited him, face and posture expectant. “Let us try once again. Regardless of how stubborn, enough water and time will wear away even the toughest rock.” 

“I was getting through to him,” Gabriel told the djinni. Zenyatta gave a sagely nod, twining his fingers together.

“I felt it as well.” There was a heartbeat of pause, and the djinni added, “You may or may not be aware, but shifting immediately after being forced to remain in one form can temporarily damage the mind. Releasing him slowly from his cuffs would have prevented this.”

Gabriel’s guts twisted. “I didn’t know.” 

“I didn’t think so. No one would intentionally release a feral griffin anywhere they were going to be.” 

“Is there anything we can do but wait?” Gabriel asked. 

“Provided you do not get attacked, talking to him may serve to hurry his mind along.” Zenyatta seemed to consider something, head swaying slightly from side to side. 

He held out his palm. A small orb formed in it, pulsating a soft, golden light that twinkled and shimmered with a radiant warmth. 

He gently threw it- For a moment, it arced, obeying gravity. It then found Gabriel, hovering and bobbing around his shoulder. 

“What’s this?” Gabriel regarded it with some apprehension. 

“An orb of harmony. It suppresses doubtful thoughts and provides physical and mental comfort. I expect you will have use of it in the coming hours. It may serve to strengthen some of your abilities.” 

“Thank y-” 

“Do not thank me. Find your griffin, return him to his humanity. Go.” 

Gabriel hurried along down the hallway. He flagged down one of the golems, who chirruped upon seeing him. 

“Did you see a griffin coming through here?” Gabriel asked it. The golem pointed. “Thanks.” 

The orb of harmony, or whatever the hell Zenyatta had called it, was some good stuff. Gabriel’s empty, tired, shaking limbs were fueled with a warm sort of strength Gabriel associated with eating well and sleeping good. Between this and Mondatta’s tea, he was back at a hundred percent. In fact, he felt good enough that he was almost sure that he could fight Jack and win…

Not that he wanted to. But still. 

Jack was lingering anxiously in a hallway, slinking down the narrow space. His head whipped up upon hearing Gabriel’s footsteps, and he anticipated Gabriel’s arrival before he even turned the corner.

“Jack, none of this shit. I know it’s fun being the big bad griffin, but you’ve got to fucking snap out of it.”

“RAAH!” Lions made very  _ strange  _ vocalizations. _ “Grrhhaahhh…” _

“Cut that shit  _ out,  _ Jack, Angela wants to  _ kill  _ you!” Gabriel took a step forward, holding out his hand. “Get that through your thick fucking  _ skull!  _ Either you play nice with me or you  _ die,  _ Jack!” 

Jack abruptly lunged at him, claws outstretched. 

The Reaper’s reflexes coupled with Gabriel’s instincts, and he dodged, supernaturally quick. Jack, who was  _ also  _ moving at an inhuman speed, missed, although by a very narrow margin. The griffin whirled around on heel, wings flared out as much as they could be in the cramped hallway. 

Gabriel felt the same slow, self-assured grace that he had when he’d faced off with Hana. It was unbridled confidence, certainty. Fluidity in movement, the nonchalance of knowledge that a battle had already been won before it had ever began. 

Smoke coiled off Gabriel’s skin, curling like steam off a boiling pot. 

Jack looked uneasy.

“It’s just me,” Gabriel told him, his voice even and steady. “Gabe. Remember me?” 

Jack let out an uncertain growl, tail starting to lash, thumping erratically against the walls. 

“Just settle down. I know white bread is in there somewhere, isn’t he?” Gabriel crooned softly, approaching with slow, measured steps. “C’mon, Jack…” 

The griffin lunged again, and Gabriel dodged with the fluid grace of a living shadow. 

The Reaper beckoned to him again, the same it had with Hana. There was an _ability-_ not ripping souls, something new and unique, lurking _somewhere_ just beneath the surface…

It was as if someone had just flipped a switch and a light had come on. He suddenly knew, with an uncanny familiarity, as if he had always known and had simply forgot and needed the Reaper’s reminding.

“Shh,” Gabriel coaxed Jack, approaching slowly. Behind the griffin, smoky tendrils coiled up from the wooden floor. They responded to Gabriel’s command, encroaching on the massive beast’s personal space. They went unnoticed, as Jack was anxiously staring at Gabriel instead of his surroundings. 

Gabriel’s mist-born tendrils abruptly moved, surging forward to cocoon the griffin in shadow. Only too late did the griffin realize what was happening- he panicked, attempting to escape before he was completely swallowed up, but he was neatly bound in mist before he could run.  

“You’re staying right there until I get Jack back,” Gabriel told it. The griffin flailed blindly, bellowing in fear and rage. Gabriel considered muzzling him, but it would be a little  _ cruel,  _ wouldn’t it? No, no- Keeping his wings, chest, and legs secure would be enough. The griffin’s tail-tip thudded viciously against the floor, betraying Jack’s agitation at being trapped again. 

“Gabriel?” 

Angela and Zenyatta timidly approached, despite the fallen griffin’s warning yowls. 

“What did you do to him?” Angela looked slightly disturbed, and perhaps a shade fascinated. 

“I tied him up,” Gabriel said, feeling a little pleased with himself. He had no idea he could do it before, but now it seemed clear as day. A tendril of jet-black mist coiled from the wall, and Gabriel directed it with his index finger, delighted to see it follow his movements. 

“I’ve never heard of a Reaper doing anything like this.” Angela confessed. Gabriel stopped playing with the inky column of smoke, letting it dissolve into nothing.

“Seriously?” Gabriel asked. What did that mean for  _ him?  _

“How did you do it?” Angela slowly approached Jack, who seemed to have given up fighting for the moment. The only indication that he could still move was the very tip of his tail, which flicked nervously at Angela’s approach. 

“The Reaper told me how.”

“The Reaper  _ told  _ you?” Angela sounded so unbelievably skeptical of it that it left a sour taste in Gabriel’s mouth. 

“Not  _ literally.  _ It was like this with-” Gabriel faltered, not quite ready to discuss what he’d done with the nymphs. “- It’s done this before, I mean. The Reaper takes over. Makes me stronger. Better. Faster. I feel as if I’ve always been able to use these powers, and I’ve just forgotten.” 

“Amelie said the same thing,” Angela revealed reluctantly. “But it took her  _ weeks  _ to get into shape to use any of these abilities. Teleporting, turning into mist, healing herself, and whatever  _ that  _ is.” She shot a helpless look in Jack’s direction, who didn’t bother to look up. When Angela glanced back at Gabriel, a pang of sympathy was forced from him in response to how  _ frazzled  _ she looked. 

“I just… I don’t know about any of this.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger and shook her head, troubled. 

“Pardon me, but may I put in my view?” Zenyatta chimed in gently. 

“Of course, Zenyatta.” Angela seemed a little bit relieved to have his input. 

“Gabriel is very obviously a talented Reaper. I would place him as one of the most powerful I have ever seen.”

“You’ve seen other Reapers?” Gabriel asked almost automatically. 

“Oh, yes. Djinn have lifespans of thousands of years, if not an indefinite lifespan altogether.” A slight clear of his throat. “Although I am young, relatively speaking, I have seen more than seventy-eight different Mantles.” 

Gabriel tried to count how many years that was in his head, but there were too many variables that could cut down or extend a Mantle’s lifespan.  _ Really fuckin’ old  _ was the closest thing Gabriel could put together. 

“I  _ have  _ known other Mantles like this.” Zenyatta continued slowly. “With a precise ability to create and manipulate shadow-born appendages.” 

“Oh, that is a  _ relief.”  _ Angela sighed. “I don’t have any logs of it from any Reaper or helper documenting such a thing, though-” 

“It has been quite some time since I have witnessed such a feat in a Reaper,” Zenyatta admitted. “If there had been surviving journals, I doubt that anyone barring the long-lived or immortal would be capable of translating them. The last Reaper I remember with the talent was… Oh my, a young woman. I met her in Mecca, seeking religious advice after what she’d become. She was a kind girl despite her unfortunate circumstances. She was, perhaps, the most refined Reaper I had ever met. She saw all of the ugliness of what she had become and refused to accept it- She turned the Reaper and her powers into a thing of great beauty. It was unfortunate that following after her was the most brutish minotaur I’ve ever encountered, although she, at the very least, was good-hearted. After her, there was an apathetic giant, and after him, a long chain of incredibly weak Reapers.” 

“Why  _ are  _ some Reapers more powerful than others?” Gabriel asked, finding himself slightly interested. A coiling tentacle of smoky shadow came up from the floor, and he moved it by wagging his index finger. 

“That is for the Reaper to know. Some think it is random.” Zenyatta said, tone agreeable. “I, however, find myself disagreeing. Your power is a reflection of your spirit. Despite being an evil thing, the strongest Reapers are those with good hearts and souls.” 

“Then the Reaper fucked up.” 

“Pardon?” Zenyatta tipped his head, eyeing him curiously.

“I don’t have a  _ good heart  _ or a  _ good soul.”  _ Gabriel felt his chest swell with indignation. “So either you’re wrong or the Reaper can’t read as good as we thought.” 

Zenyatta had a gentle, tinkling laugh, like the ringing of a bell. “Or you are a better man than you think.” 

Anger, instinct, and the Reaper mingled. 

The dark tendrils of mist moved lightning quick from every-which direction, lashing around Zenyatta’s wrists, neck, hips, and ankles. With a sharp gesture, Gabriel forced the djinni to his knees. 

Zenyatta looked up at him, peacefully amused. “Does the idea of being a good person upset you so much?” 

“I’m not,” Gabriel hissed. 

“Why does this bother you?” Zenyatta persisted. 

“It  _ doesn’t.”  _

“Then why have you bound me?” 

Gabriel didn’t have a response for that. He snarled, slashed his hand through the air, and Zenyatta’s binds dissipated. 

Zenyatta rubbed one of his wrists, humming softly. 

“Gabriel,” Angela whispered, sharp and urgent. 

“What?” 

“ _ Apologize.  _ Right  _ now.”  _

“What? Why?” Gabriel’s nose wrinkled. 

“That was incredibly rude!” 

“He doesn’t care.” 

“ _ Apologize.”  _

Gabriel snorted derisively and turned to the djinni, spitting out a “ _ Sorry”  _ in a tone that suggested he was not sorry at all. 

“No trouble at all.” Zenyatta said peaceably. “I will return to my room. When you have recovered enough, Reaper, I would like you to come see me. We have much to discuss.” 

The djinni turned and left. 

Gabriel sighed quietly, unsure how to feel about the djinni, and looked back at his captive. 

The griffin had shrunk down to an incredibly sheepish looking Jack. 

“Hey,” He said, wriggling awkwardly. “Little help?” 

Gabriel moved closer, squatting beside Jack. 

“You’re a huge pain in the ass, Jack.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise!! early chapter!!!!!!
> 
> fun fact (I) : in original drafts Gabriel teleported Jack into the ocean to try to snap him out of it
> 
> fun fact (II) i only have three finals left thank you god 
> 
> fun fact (III) next chapter we get more genji action, or at least we should, if i can actually remain frickin consistent, but consistency is for scrubs
> 
> fun fact (IV) i may have already mentioned this, but this story has only a few loose plot threads connecting it together. i don't chart story beats and every chapter has a sentence-long premise that eventually becomes 2,000 - 6,000 words. this makes it REALLY EASY for plot inconsistencies to happen im so sorry


	28. Dinner With a Side of Exposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and co have dinner.

Gabriel waved the mist enveloping Jack away, and helped the griffin up- Jack profusely apologized to both him and Angela, and the harpy seemed to just barely accept it. She told Gabriel to  _ stay put and for the love of God do not go anywhere  _ and he just nodded like an obedient toddler. He and Jack stood side-by-side as she walked away to go get Amelie, some kind of mutual silence between them. 

Gabriel’s anger cooled off over the wait. Eventually Jack mumbled another apology under his breath and Gabriel told him it was fine. The silence stretched out awkwardly between them, and Gabriel desperately wanted to disappear. Unfortunately, even though he could teleport  _ and  _ turn into mist, neither of them happened, and he remained stiffly by Jack’s side. 

Angela came back down the stairs, Amelie behind her. 

“We’re going to the dining room,” Amelie had told Gabriel before he could defend himself or say a damn thing. Jack offered his shoulder to lean on when they headed that way, and Gabriel gratefully took it. That whole ‘making solid tentacles out of shadow and mist’ thing was pretty draining, it turned out, and Zenyatta’s harmony orb had disappeared with him, leaving Gabriel running on sheer willpower and Mondatta’s strange djinn tea. 

More than anything else, Gabriel wanted a fucking nap, but he’d have to settle for being dragged into the dining room like a kid into a principal’s office. 

Angela, Gabriel, Amelie, and Jack headed down a short hallway and into a large open room. It was much longer than it was wide.

Dominating the bulk of the room was a table that sat about twenty people, with an ornate chair at the head of the table. It was decorated with a familiar emblem, one he had seen back in his original dreams of the Reaper- A bone white mask, vaguely resembling a skull or a bird. He guessed it was probably where the Reaper sat during diplomat-related meetings, but Angela didn’t indicate him towards it and he knew he wasn’t gonna feel comfortable sitting on it. 

The room had a delicate marble floor, and the table was made out of hardy, polished mahogany. The walls were slightly chipped stone, decorated with three dozen paintings that ranged from a couple hundred years old at the most and a few years at the youngest. If he could guess, they were paintings of former Reapers. Amelie had a portrait, and Gabriel wondered uneasily if there was some immortal being painting every Reaper. When were they painted? Why were they painted? Would he ever get a portrait? 

It was fucking chilling to think that one day Gabriel’s predecessor would stare on at his old portrait long after he was dead and gone. It was a freaky reminder of his own fragile mortality, and he did  _ not  _ need that shit right now. 

There was a beautiful crystal chandelier over the table. The candles in it shifted color, fading from blue to gold to purple to red to green to orange and so on, every color Gabriel could imagine. He felt it would’ve been good to stare at if he ever decided to blaze up, but even not high it was still fascinating. It was almost silly to him that there was such pointless, useless cosmetic magic at the official Reaper dining table. 

Gabriel wondered who had decided to do something so trivial as to have the candles in the dining rooms change color. He wondered if it was one of the dead Mantles in the portraits who had ordered it. 

One of them was a child. 

It made his gut wrench- In the third portrait on the left, a little Asian girl beamed at him, one of her teeth missing. How long had she been the Reaper? When had she died? She couldn’t have been any more than seven years old when the portrait was painted.

The chandelier’s candles shifted to cooler colors. Jade green, glacial blue, muted purple. Maybe it reflected the mood of the dinner guests. 

“I think we’re due for dinner,” Angela declared suddenly in the silence. Amelie, who had been glumly staring at the table, perked up at her words.

“Ah,  _ oui,  _ that would be lovely.” Her cool yellow gaze flicked to Gabriel, and he swallowed. “While we are waiting, I would like to hear exactly what happened to you today.” 

The portraits, plus all the stupid and terrible things he’d done in the past couple of days, only served to make Gabriel more uneasy than he should’ve been. Getting chastised by Liao for brutalizing a couple thugs was remarkably akin to this, so he should be able to deflect their disappointment with ease- Except he  _ couldn’t,  _ because being glared at by the two harpies was getting to him. The entire room felt depressing, simultaneously charged with tension and stagnated by gloom.

“A lot of stuff.” Gabriel replied, purposely cagey. Amelie snorted, not impressed with his half-assed answer.

“Gabriel, I think you should just tell her.” Even Jack seemed to be affected by the oppressive, somber atmosphere. He was looking dejectedly down at the table, his hands neatly placed in his lap. He looked like a kicked dog.

“I teleported to France.” Gabriel relayed reluctantly. “Then the open ocean. Then to the Shambali monastery. I met Mondatta, he gave me these.” He plucked at his robes, sparing a moment to send thanks in his head to Mondatta for it. It was a lot warmer than his old Reaper robe, and the mansion was cold despite all the floating candles everywhere. “I teleported a lot of places. I ended up in a forest, with a bunch of cows. I rode one for a while, and I settled a debate between nymphs.” 

Comprehension dawned in Jack’s eyes, and he looked up. Under the the table, Jack’s hand found Gabriel’s, a quiet gesture of comfort. Gabriel allowed Jack to thread their fingers together, fighting to not shiver from the touch.  _ God dammit.  _

Amelie folded her arms, able to piece together what was left unsaid. “The Reaper took over. It did that my first time. My first soul was an accident.” 

“Yeah.” Gabriel admitted reluctantly.

“How was the taste?” 

“I didn’t eat it.” Gabriel said, quietly. Jack squeezed his hand and he repeated it, louder: “I didn’t eat it.” 

Amelie made a soft, impressed noise. “You resisted the Reaper’s instincts… I know how…  _ Confusing.  _ Overwhelming. That your first soul can be.” 

“I almost didn’t.” Gabriel’s gaze wandered to the soft flesh of his inner elbow, where the scars from Satya’s desperate attempts to stop him had just started to scab over. “God, it was like I was starving. I’ve never… I’ve never felt  _ hungry  _ like that.” 

“My advice is eat your first one in the next debate you settle and get it over with. Resisting it is only going to get harder.” Amelie’s voice was cold, serious. “You don’t want to accidentally do it with someone you care about.” 

Angela looked down, her eyes closing. She exhaled a little too loudly, and Gabriel wondered if something had  _ happened  _ between them once. 

A golem’s footsteps interrupted Gabriel, and it padded over to him. It chirped curiously, fingers clutching a pen and a pad of paper.

“Uh-” He looked to Angela for help.

“He wants your order,” She clarified. “Water, for all of us.” 

It nodded, tucking the pencil in the small gap between its shoulder and its torso. It trundled off happily, bustling into a set of doors Gabriel hadn’t even noticed.

“There’s a restaurant in your mansion?” Gabriel asked, slightly bemused.

“Where do you think your breakfast came from?” Angela asked.

“Fair enough. What do they serve?” 

“Anything.” Angela responded primly. “Are you familiar with alchemy?” 

“The golems are alchemists?” 

Amelie rolled her eyes. “Ugh,  _ non.  _ The point of alchemy is to convert one form of thing to another. Most often you hear about turning water into wine or stone into gold. The golems do it with food.” 

“Seriously?” 

“It’s a practice handed down throughout a long, long time. Torbjorn could explain better- he’s written multiple books on alchemy.” Angela chipped in.

“Torbjorn?” Gabriel and Jack exchanged a look. “That’s the creator of the golems, right?” 

“ _ Oui, _ but that’s not what the point was.” Amelie interrupted. “The chef golems take base ingredients- Meat or grain or lettuce- and convert it into something far more palatable.” 

“That’s cool and all, but when do I get to meet Torbjorn?” Gabriel persisted, curiosity stroked. “He’s one of… He’s like you two, right?” 

“He is one of the Reaper’s aides, if that’s what you mean. In case you needed reminding, he’s a dwarf, not a harpy.” Angela provided. 

Gabriel was about to ask if there were even male harpies, but he recalled that Amelie had a harpy husband once upon a time and decided to not raise the subject.

“Am I ever going to meet him?” Gabriel repeated. Angela and Amelie exchanged looks. 

“He’s eccentric,” Angela began awkwardly. 

“He’s a loon.” Amelie snorted. Angela gave her a reprimanding glare, but the former Mantle shrugged, unapologetic. “It is true,  _ cheri.  _ All he’s good for is the creation of the golems-” 

“Herr Lindholm is an important and  _ valued  _ member of our staff,” Angela chided. “If anyone is useless around here, it’s  _ Sombra.”  _

“She saved your life,” Amelie reminded coolly, folding her arms. 

“She acts like a child-” 

Gabriel leaned back in his seat with a loud puff of air out. The quarrelling harpies looked up at him. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘maybe possibly someday’ on meeting Torbjorn.” Gabriel leaned forward, folding his arms. 

“Our apologies, Gabriel, but he’s been in holed up in his workshop ever since you were-” Angela hesitated, looking for a word. In Gabriel’s opinion,  _ captured  _ would’ve been accurate, as would  _ kidnapped  _ or  _ abducted  _ or  _ forcefully taken against your will,  _ but she substituted with “- Brought here. It isn’t wise to interrupt a dwarf when they’re at work. It’s a good way to lose fingers, and I am  _ not  _ sewing any more on after the incident with the duck.” 

Gabriel mouthed “ _ the incident with the duck?”  _ to Jack, but the griffin shook his head and looked just as bewildered.

Evidently feeling the duck incident required no more further elaboration, Angela cleared her throat and set her hands on the table. “Let’s move on from Torbjorn, and to the more important matter. It’s obvious that your powers are developing faster than your control is, and they’re somewhat linked to your emotions.” 

“No they’re not,” Gabriel said without thinking in the slightest. It was basically an automatic response to negatively reply to everything the harpy said at this point.

“Yes, they are.” Angela responded patiently. “Every single time you’ve used your powers, it was because you desperately wanted something, or you were feeling strong emotion, correct?” 

His ability to turn into mist. Check on that one. Healing his injured fingers wasn’t due to powerful emotion. Before teleporting, he had been feeling pretty shitty in general, which he felt didn’t count. 

Though, when he lost his temper- like with Zenyatta, Jack, and Hana- he had better control of his abilities, even if he lost control of  _ himself.  _ He had attacked both the naiad and the djinni completely unprovoked, and had nearly killed the former. 

“Some Reapers were medicated or given therapy for anger management,” Angela mused thoughtfully. “The dossier we had on you said there had been several incidents that were borderline police brutality, and one of your coworkers claimed you’d had violent outbursts in the past-” 

“I do not need  _ therapy,”  _ Gabriel spat, with much more venom than he intended. 

“It’s only a suggestion, Gabriel.” Angela soothed. “I’m not saying it’s necessary… Just that you may want to think about it before you end up hurting someone you care about.” After a heartbeat of silence, she added, “I think after dinner you and Amelie should go into the yard and work on controlling your abilities. You are recovering…  _ Far  _ quicker than I had ever anticipated.” 

“Great,” Gabriel replied, unenthused. The golem trundled out of the kitchen, bearing a tray of tall glasses of ice water. It delicately set them in front of the four congregated people, then headed back to the kitchen with a happy whistle.

Jack drank his like he’d been dying of dehydration, and the thought that he had made Gabriel’s stomach twist into knots. 

“We need to get some things straight with Jack.” Gabriel said, offering his own glass to the griffin. There was a heartbeat of hesitation, but Jack accepted it without a verbal or physical protest. “You  _ can’t  _ keep him here as a prisoner.” 

“Gabriel, he’s intimately familiar with us by now.” Angela took on a tone of pleading. “He can’t be allowed to spread knowledge about us and our location.” 

“The Reaper’s not some big secret,” Gabriel argued. “ _ Zenyatta’s  _ not part of Talon, but he’s still been here for- I don’t know, a  _ while.”  _

“Zenyatta is a pledged pacifist- Djinn do  _ not  _ take part in mortal fighting, nor can they be bought off to share knowledge. Jack is an animal.” 

The griffin made a soft, angry noise, but didn’t look up from the rim of his glass. Gabriel could hear him crunching up ice cubes with his teeth, and a pang of sympathy shot through him. Jesus, had they given Jack any water at all?

“Well, we’re not,” Gabriel countered. “If Jack wants to  _ leave,  _ then he can  _ leave.  _ This isn’t your decision anymore.” 

“I’m going to stay here.” Jack said slowly. He didn’t look at anyone when he spoke, intently focused on either the table in front of him or the cup of ice.

“Well-” Gabriel fumbled for a second. “Get him a better room.” 

“Gabriel, this is insanity.” Angela took on a sterner tone. “This is out of your hands, it’s for the safety of all of us and not just-” 

Gabriel stood up, chair squealing as it ground against marble. “It’s  _ my  _ decision, Angela. Jack can come and go if he wants. He gets to eat with us, he gets to move freely around the mansion, no  _ cuffs  _ or  _ restraints.”  _

He didn’t even notice that his skin was smoking until he sat down.

“Gabriel,” Jack mumbled, “It’s fine.” 

“No,” Gabriel countered, “It’s not.” 

He looked back at Angela and Amelie, who were whispering to one another. When he managed to catch some of it, it was in some European tongue he didn’t speak. 

“Fine,” Angela’s voice suggested it was not fine. “Amelie and I have come to a decision. Jack can freely move around the mansion without observation or restraint. He can request meals whenever he pleases,  _ but  _ he isn’t allowed to leave the grounds for a month. If he runs away, the golems and I are going to hunt him down.” 

It was left unsaid, but her tone implied that it wasn’t just  _ hunt him down,  _ but  _ hunt him down and kill him like the fucking animal he is.  _

Gabriel wondered if all transhumans were treated like this, or Angela and Amelie had particular hatred towards those who could shift into deadly animals. 

Gabriel nudged Jack’s elbow. The griffin’s intense blue eyes alighted on his, cool and accepting. There was a short nod exchanged between them, and Gabriel glanced back at the harpies.

“We’ll take it.” 

“Perfect,” Amelie sighed. “You managed to settle a debate without eating someone’s soul. _ Félicitations.” _

_ Congratulations,  _ Gabriel translated in his head, thankful all those Latin-based languages sounded alike. 

Another golem came by, clad in a chef’s apron and chef’s hat. It whistled noisily, whipping out a pad and pencil of paper.

“Oh, time to order.” Amelie murmured. “My usual,  _ s’il vous plait.”  _

A conformational whistle, and it shuffled a little bit to angle its sight with Angela. It chirped questioningly.

“Apple-cranberry salad,” Angela told it. It chirped noisily. “Italian.” A soft squawking sound. “Feta cheese. And a glass of the red wine, thank you.” 

“Wait, do they actually speak?” Gabriel asked, a little disturbed. “Like, real words?” 

“They speak an archaic form of harpy tongue. It’s impossible for humans to speak due to the shape of your mouth and throat, but it’s not impossible for you to learn and understand.” Angela explained. 

“Wait, why don’t they speak English?” 

“If I recall, Torbjorn said he didn’t want any back-talk from them, but also wanted them to be understood by us.” Amelie swirled her glass with a straw. “He was in a fickle mood when we asked.” 

“I can make sense of some of it,” Jack murmured, taking a sip from Gabriel’s glass. “It reminds me of Ma and Pa, a little bit.” 

Gabriel was about to ask why, but then it occurred to him. “Oh, they have bird heads.” 

“Yeah. A lot of the old languages stem from the same place- if you’ve got the vocal cords of a bird, chances are you’ll be able to talk to and make sense of someone else who also does.” 

“You’ve got a lion’s head, though. Can you speak it?” 

Jack stared at his glass as if it held the answer to the universe itself. Gabriel worried he was about to get a serious, heavy answer, as if he’d been ostracized by his peers and kicked out for being different. 

Instead, he said, “Have you ever heard a lion imitate a bird?” 

“Uh, no?” 

“It sounds exactly as ridiculous as you’d expect.” He took a deep pull from his glass, getting the remaining dredges of water that’d hidden beneath slightly melted ice cubes. 

The golem waiter chirped anxiously, and Gabriel realized they’d been ignoring him during their entire conversation. “Oh, shit, um-” He fumbled for an order. Liao had taken him to a fancy restaurant once, and it was decidedly not his setting. A dingy, poorly lit Denny’s at three in the morning was more his speed. 

Jack took over. “Steak, for the both of us. Medium rare. If you can, I’d like a glass of whiskey and another glass of water.” 

Gabriel whistled. “Going for the big-boy stuff, white bread? Bet you’re a lightweight.” 

Jack smiled an infuriatingly warm smile. “Mhmm. You keep telling yourself that.” 

The golem chirped, scribbling something on his pad and prodding his pencil in Gabriel’s direction. 

Angela translated. “He wants to know if you want a drink.” 

“Oh, uh- Just a water for me.” 

The golem chirped confirmationally and headed back to the kitchen. 

“While we’re waiting on our food, can I get some details about Zenyatta’s case? I want to clear that away sooner than later.” Gabriel interrupted the ensuing silence. 

“Well… I suppose since you’re progressing so quickly… Zenyatta came to us and told Amelie that his order had been denied help by the aid of Overwatch.” Angela recounted slowly. “He was seeking the Reaper’s assistance to strong-arm Overwatch into helping.” 

“Overwatch…” Oh  _ fuck. _ “You mean I have to square off against Liao?” 

“Now you understand why Amelie was so reluctant to do her job,” Angela sounded slightly cross. “Overwatch is a difficult organization to tangle with, and Amelie had made so many enemies in it that the verdict wouldn’t be fair.” 

“Wait a minute,” Gabriel’s brain spun at a million miles an hour, and he whirled on Jack instead of the harpies, feeling that he knew Liao far better. “Was  _ that  _ why she didn’t want me to become the Reaper? She thought she’d have to go to supernatural  _ court  _ against me?” 

“No- She couldn’t have known about the case.” Jack shook his head. “Right?” 

“The case didn’t leave Talon’s ears. We never made a move against Overwatch, because we were waiting for a change in Reaper.” Angela replied primly. “Liao couldn’t have known, unless we had a traitor in our midst.” 

There was a pointed, lingering look at Amelie, and the former Mantle scoffed. “She brought us _ Gabriel.”  _

“Regardless, she’s not  _ trustworthy,  _ Amelie.” 

“Who are they talking about?” Jack directed the question at Gabriel, brows furrowed. 

“Sombra, I think. The technomancer on staff. Angela doesn’t like her, Amelie does.” That’s what he’d managed to glean from their brief snippets of conversation about her, anyway. 

Jack looked troubled as he chomped on a handful of lingering icecubes. “I don’t like any of this. Everything feels…” 

“Like it’s slotted perfectly into place?” Gabriel asked gloomily. 

“Wrong.” Jack corrected. “Liao… Liao would’ve  _ told  _ me if she knew about the case, but why didn’t she order people to help the Shambali? I quit, but I would’ve helped if she’d contacted me.” 

“Does she have something against the djinn?” 

“I don’t think so,” Jack said, uneasy. “As far as I know, Liao’s never met a djinni.” 

“I’m beginning to think that we don’t know anything about her.” Gabriel said wearily. “She won’t even tell me what she is.” 

“Old,” Jack said plainly. “That’s all I know. Old.” 

“Do you know who the Reaper before Amelie was?” Gabriel’s eyes lingered on the portraits. Before Amelie came an old man, clad entirely in grey. He can’t have lasted very long, he was so  _ old.  _

“Did I catch my name?” Amelie trilled softly, breaking out of a conversation with Angela.

“Uh, yeah. How did you become the Reaper?” 

“We killed the old one.” Angela recounted. 

Jack sputtered noisily, half-rising out of his chair. “You  _ killed  _ a Reaper?” 

“He was old and sick, desperately clinging to life and hoping that being the Reaper’s Mantle would spare him from death. He was a weak Mantle and a weak man. He had a staff of  _ pixies,  _ for God’s sake.” A derisive snort from Amelie. “He sent away most of his guard outside the mansion- Giants and minotaurs and the kind only obeying him out of fear. He never anticipated anything slender enough to get through the chimney could also kill him in his sleep.”

“He was one of the shortest-lived Reapers in history,” Angela put in helpfully. “He served for two and a quarter years before we killed him.”

The mental image of the harpies murdering an old man was a rather…  _ Chilling  _ one.

“You could fit down a chimney?” Jack asked, sounding interested. “I mean… You’re clearly thin, but-” 

A smile between the two harpies, like they were sharing a private joke. 

“We bathed everything except our feathers in olive oil,” Amelie recounted. “In order to not get stuck in the narrow gap but still be able to fly to the top of the mansion.”

“We paid off the pixies with gemstones,” Angela sounded dreamy, as if recounting a great adventure instead of breaking into a house and murdering someone. “The break-in was a well organized and required a lot of planning and patience. I’m still proud of ourselves for pulling it off, and it was a decade ago.” 

Before they could happily reminisce more about murdering an old man, the golems came in, bearing trays of food. Amelie’s was, nearest Gabriel could tell, some kind of fowl. He wondered if harpies eating birds could be considered cannibalism. The golem poured a thin, jet-black liquid into a wine glass, tentatively offering it to her. She thanked it in French and it chirped happily. 

Angela got her salad and wine, Jack got his steak and whiskey, and Gabriel got his steak and water. 

Dinner was cleared fast ( the steak was the best Gabriel had ever eaten, though he’d only had it a handful of times in his life ) leaving a comfortable silence. It was a stark contrast to the oppressive, gloomy mood prior. 

One of the golems came by, clearing away plates and refilling drinks. Jack started looking slightly unfocused after downing his whiskey, but he wasn’t drunk, nearest Gabe could tell. 

Angela stood up, politely tucking in her chair. She addressed Gabriel, clearing her throat gently. “Why don’t I take Jack to his new room? You and Amelie can go into the yard and work on practicing your abilities.” 

“I think that is an excellent idea,  _ cheri.”  _ Amelie downed her mysterious jet-black drink in one pull, patting her mouth delicately with one of the napkins the golems had left. She stood up, pushing her chair back, and gestured for Gabriel to follow her.

“Jack, if Angela does anything, yell for me.” Gabriel murmured to the griffin. 

“I can handle myself.” Jack took a pull from his glass of water. Before Gabriel could object, he amended himself. “I’ll yell if I need help, Gabe. Promise.”

“Okay,” Gabriel stood up and nudged his chair flush against the table, heading over to Amelie. 

“Oh, Gabriel!” Angela’s voice interrupted him. She had just started to help Jack out of his seat, and was looking at the fledgeling Reaper expectantly. “It’s going to be below freezing tonight. However warm Mondatta’s robes may be, there are cloaks in the front closet, and you should take one. Humans are so delicate when it comes to cold…” 

“Alright,” Gabriel replied, slightly disgruntled.

“Let’s get a move on,” Amelie advised, the two of them heading for the set of double-doors. “I’m not interested in freezing, either.” 

True to Angela’s word, there had been a bunch of coats and cloaks in the front hall. The most interesting of the bunch was a purplish black one, trimmed with dark feathers at the shoulder and tail. It had a hood, and two long tassels in the front, seemingly there for decoration. Hung up with it was a mask in the shape of a corvid’s beak, metallic boots lovingly placed amongst a multitude of other boots, furred or otherwise. The robe, moreso than the other items that went along with it, seemed to call to him, and he had to stop himself from pulling it off from where it hung and donning it. 

Gabriel glanced up at Amelie, questioning. 

“Some Reapers tailor a specific look.” A shrug. “It was designed for a wizard about your height and build.” 

Gabriel looked at it again, feeling something compel him to put it on. He gave in to the urges, shrugging it over, feeling a warm sense of… Well. It felt like something was  _ right,  _ wearing it. 

“Let’s go,” Amelie prompted.

She pushed open the doors and led him out into the cold winter air. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today we hit a bunch of milestones!
> 
> 500+ kudos, 7000+ views, 100,000+ words, and our two month anniversary! 
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for helping me get this far! 
> 
> And I promise Genji will most definitely be in the next chapter, I'm so sorry he wasn't in this one but it ran for so long I had to split it up!
> 
> Happy Holidays, everyone!


	29. Bloodlust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie teaches Gabriel some important things, and Genji gets what he's been wanting for the longest time.
> 
> tw for... potentially nonconny stuff? i mean... its nonconsensual vampire biting. nothing explicit here, but just a warning in case ya'll want to skip this one

It turned out that “the yard” was several acres of grassy land, occasionally spotted with a cluster of flowers or trees. There was nary a thistle or dandelion to be seen across the entire sea of green, and Gabriel suspected that there were dedicated golem gardeners tending to the land and weeding them out. 

Amelie brought him to a small clearing, the grass cleared away for a twenty by twenty five rectangle of dirt. There was a massive tree hanging over the spot, providing shade, though it wasn’t like they needed any in the dying rays of wintry twilight. There was a handful of lawn chairs, and a patio table, complete with an umbrella. An open book lay on the glass table, evidently left behind some ago and forgotten. A lantern on a rope hung around one of the tree’s branches, and Amelie fluttered up, grabbed it, and brought it back down. 

She lit a match that she’d been keeping somewhere in that fur coat, and lit the lantern. It burned a warm orange, providing some much needed light in the face of dusk. She flapped up to the branch it’d been hung in and re-fastened it there, so it hung over the both of them and thoroughly lit the clearing. 

“Should we be out here so late?” Gabriel said aloud. 

Amelie let out a soft laugh that was wholly unpleasant. “You’re the  _ Reaper.  _ Surely you’re not scared of the dark?” 

Gabriel managed to hold his tongue and not recite the cliche  _ ‘It’s what’s in the dark that scares me’,  _ and simply shook his head. Amelie seemed satisfied with that much, at least.

Amelie led him to the center of the clearing, about a foot apart from one another. “Before I teach you anything, I want you to show me what you can do. If you have control of  _ anything  _ at all.” 

Gabriel attempted to dissolve into a mist, but all that happened was his fingers flickered and smoked weakly. He managed to get his right ring finger to dissolve, but not the rest of him. Gabriel glanced up at Amelie and away from his hand, expecting a negative comment. 

“That’s acceptable.” Amelie grunted. “Can you grow it back?” 

Small phalanges formed from mist, flesh and skin neatly returning his finger where it belonged. He guessed that after a while it would stop feeling so foreign, but for now, it felt really weird to have it back. 

“Good,” Amelie praised. “Do  _ not  _ try to teleport yet. Show me your other power- The new one, from this afternoon. Angela told me about it, and I would like to see for myself.”

A tendril of darkness coiled from Gabriel’s feet, hovering expectantly like a faithful dog. It wriggled in the air, and Gabriel directed it towards the patio table. He directed it to grab the abandoned book- which it did, albeit clumsily- and it brought it to him. He tossed it to Amelie, who caught it with a soft hum. 

“It is an interesting thing, certainly.” Amelie mused. “You can fully control them?” 

“Yeah. Don’t think I could do more than one or two at a time…”

“Angela seemed to imply you had used more than one or two when you bound the griffin.” 

“The Reaper helped me with that one.” Gabriel amended. 

“Is that so?” Either she didn’t care at all or she was really good at feigning it. “I think I know what we have to do to…  _ Help  _ you along, so to speak.”

“Yeah?”

Amelie walked over to the patio table, gently setting the book down on the glass. She padded back to stand about a foot in front of Gabriel, yellow eyes glimmering like cold chips of citrine. 

“You were formerly a police officer, correct?” 

“Yeah,” Gabriel confirmed cautiously, not entirely certain where this was going. Somewhere bad, that much he knew. He allowed the tendril of mist to shrivel into nothing, pretty sure he was going to need all his concentration and energy for whatever Amelie had planned. 

“You’re not a stranger to potentially hazardous situations?” Amelie checked. 

“This entire  _ week  _ was a constant ‘hazardous situation’.” Gabriel quipped before he could check his tongue. Amelie did not seem amused.

“Then you’re ready.”

“For wh-”

Quicker than Gabriel could react, a fist went flying for him. A quick blow to the chest, a foot hooked behind his knee, forcing it to buckle. He fell, like a sack of potatoes, and Amelie’s heel was quickly applied to his throat, though without much force behind it. 

Gabriel would’ve wheezed out some protest if contact with the ground had not smashed the air clean out of his lungs. 

“It did not appear to work.” Amelie observed, sounding more disappointed than anything. 

“Give me some warning!” Gabriel managed to choke out. 

Amelie shook her head and folded her arms, waiting for Gabriel to pick his sorry ass up. “I was hoping that if I attacked you without warning, the Reaper would kick in and stop me, even if you did not. If I had been intending on murdering you, you would be dead.”

“Who the hell is going to go around attacking the fledgeling Reaper, anyway?” Gabriel asked, disgruntled. He dusted off the feathered cloak with his hands whilst waiting for her reply. “Why would anyone even put a hit out on a Reaper? There’s just going to be a new one, right?”

“Some want to claim the power for themself, as I did.” Amelie folded her arms. “The magically inclined now regard you as a target. Reaper blood and Reaper mist can be used to make some very potent aphrodisiacs, toxic poisons, vigor tonics, health potions, youth potions… There are stories a long time ago of a cult who kept the Reaper in bondage for many years. They kept him in a state of constant immobility, and harvested him for his his blood, his mist, his saliva, his sweat, his tears, his waste, his semen-”

“Maybe we should skip the history lesson,” Gabriel wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s an important one to learn. Your entire body is made up of valuable alchemical ingredients, and while you’re at the youngest stage with barely developing powers it would be easiest to keep you as a living list of ingredients. Not to mention the killing you to steal power, or the killing you to get a Reaper more suited to their views. Learning how to defend yourself now is  _ trés important.  _ Now that you are the Reaper, you will need it for the rest of your life.” 

Amelie drew herself into a low, sweeping stance. “That said…  _ En garde, Gabriel!”  _

She threw a punch that he dodged, although just barely. A sweeping kick that would’ve had her heel in his temple came next- He avoided that as well, backpedaling to gain distance. 

She moved with an effortless beauty- as though these nimble, acrobatic movements were as natural and easy as breathing. When she drew in for attack the second time, Gabriel was nearly mesmerized by how clean and sharp her movements were. He managed to sluggishly get his thoughts back in line a second before she punched him in the throat, blocking with his forearm. 

Amelie dropped low before Gabriel could get on the attack. He gathered all the force he could manage and threw a punch. 

It wasn’t pretty, certainly not. He wasn’t a judo or karate or kung fu master, and hadn’t  _ really  _ received any combat training past the minimum required to get his badge. Usually brute force worked best. 

But you know what? Even though it wasn’t pretty, it was goddamn effective. 

Amelie staggered back under the force of the blow, dropping to one knee. There was a curse in French hissed to the cold night air, and when she looked back at Gabriel, he noticed two things.

One, she was bleeding from the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away quickly. 

Two, she looked absolutely fucking livid. 

She charged at him, landing blows with precise accuracy. She nailed him in the solar plexus, in the soft joint of the elbow, in many sharp, painful little locations beneath his ribcage, and even once in the throat. 

When he lay dry-heaving on the ground, she stopped her assault.

“Can you heal your wounds?” She asked plainly, smoothing a lock of hair that’d gotten out of line during her attack. 

“Oh, God, yeah, don’t say ‘are you okay’ or anything-” Gabriel hissed, cringing in pain as he tried to get up. Somethin’ in him was fucked up bad. Tiny little radiating spots of pain from precise jabs and punches that fucktupled in amount of agony when he tried to move.

“Ah.  _ C’est bien.  _ The attitude means you’re alright.” 

Gabriel wondered if, in another time, in another place, in another life, he and Amelie could’ve been friends. 

“We’ll do it again,” Amelie said, decisively. 

“Give me a minute,” Gabriel groused. After regrowing entire fingers, clearing up bruises ought to be a snap, right? 

It wasn’t. He had no fucking clue how in the slightest, and the pain wasn’t helping his concentration. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me?” Gabriel complained instead.

“I will.” Amelie drew closer, kneeling comfortably beside him. “This is more difficult healing. When you’re missing body parts, you know how your body is supposed to be. Fixing it, when you have the ability, is as natural as breathing to you. Other healing is more difficult, since the only difference is pain and discoloration.” 

“I know that already,” Gabriel told her, irritation flickering through his voice. “How do I fix bruises?” 

“There is no one-trick way to heal. Vague metaphors would be the easiest way to explain, but would also be enormously frustrating.” Amelie shrugged slightly. “Do your best.” 

“Great, thanks,” Gabriel muttered dryly. 

“Start big. Focus on the worst of your injuries, they’ll be the easiest to fix.” 

Gabriel looked up at her, not needing words to convey his skepticism. 

“Healing the most obviously injured parts of you will be easier than fixing the smaller pains. Trust me.” 

Gabriel murmured a Spanish curse. By far the worst injury was the spot just beneath his left rib- Amelie had jabbed it about a billion times. 

Gabriel breathed deeply, in and out, concentrating. The bruising spot pulsed with his heartbeat, throbbing in tandem with the rest of his aches. He focused until he couldn’t feel anything but the steady thrum of pain from the wound, drowning out all his other injuries. 

He exhaled, breath pluming in the freezing air, caught by the rays of the lantern overhead. 

“ _ Bien,”  _ Amelie murmured. “Keep going. You’re doing fine.” 

“How can you tell it’s working?” Gabriel asked, managing to squeeze out the question whilst seriously concentrating. 

“You’re starting to smoke.” In any other circumstance, that’d be a bad thing. “Do you hurt anymore?” 

The throbbing had died off, quietly dissipating. As the smoke coiled off of him, finding crawl spaces and gaps in his clothes to escape, it took the pain with it. 

“No.” He murmured.

“Eventually, you’ll be able to heal your wounds in seconds.” 

“How long did that take?” Gabriel asked, starting to gently prod the spot under his ribs. Huh. Didn’t hurt anymore. 

“Ten minutes.” 

“What?” Gabriel looked up, shocked. “Bullshit it was, that was two minutes, tops-” 

“The passage of time is more difficult to remember when you’re using your powers.” Amelie explained carelessly. “Healing wounds is one of the worst offenders.” 

She offered him her hand, and Gabriel took it. She helped him up, and he was a little pleased when he only found minor pain from his other injuries. 

“Again, Gabriel.” 

They stood apart from one another- Gabriel inhaled deeply, readying himself and his stance. Amelie stood low, eyes glittering and face impassive.

Turned out it was a goddamn good thing that Gabriel could heal himself now. 

Amelie was an experienced fighter, that much was obvious. She’d definitely been practicing martial arts, or some variety of close-quarter combat, for a good part of her life. She was fast, athletic, and tactically minded, and Gabriel…

Well, he was tough and he packed a wallop. He couldn’t say that he had years of close-quarter combat under his belt, because most of his job required brute force and intimidation, coupled with the threat of a handgun or taser. He could throw his weight around or block a punch, but he wasn’t the lithe, graceful being like Amelie. She managed to do some weird flip thing, gracefully launch herself six feet over him, and kick off his back hard enough to get him off balance, all while rolling to disperse her momentum and be on her feet before Gabriel even hit the ground.

“This is stupid,” Gabriel muttered, picking himself off the dirt for the umpteenth time. 

“Lick your wounds and try again.” Amelie instructed. 

“This isn’t fair!” 

“You’re not going to beat me with brute force, Gabriel. If you want to win you have to tap into the Reaper’s strength.” 

“What the hell do you think I’ve been trying to do?” He barked. “It’s not  _ working.”  _

“It will.” Amelie insisted. “If nothing, you’re getting experience healing yourself faster.” 

Their bouts went much the same way. Gabriel fighting hard on defense, Amelie moving quickly and lethally on offense. It was just about as much he could do as a human to keep up with harpy reflexes. It was getting hard to keep track of where she was, in combination with her slender form, speed, and darkness. The sun had long since set, leaving the chill of the winter air to grow stronger and allowing shadows to creep from every direction. Only the glow of the windows in the distant mansion hinted that they weren’t on a small dirt platform in the middle of a cold void. Clouds had covered the sky sometime after sunset, making it impossible to see the moon or the stars. 

Gabriel wondered if it was going to rain. He also wondered, even more uneasy, if Amelie was going to drill him in the freezing rain. His mind provided him with pictures of himself, facedown in mud. 

Gabriel’s knee collided with Amelie’s belly, making her double over. He brought his two fists together, intending on slamming them down on the small of her back. She punched him in the gut and clocked him with an uppercut to the jaw, nearly making him bite his own tongue off. He stumbled and she kicked him solidly in the ribs, throwing him to the ground yet again. 

He didn’t bother to get up, accepting defeat by lying spread-eagle on the ground. 

“Once more,” Amelie urged. She was gingerly rubbing her stomach, a sour look on her face. Unlike Gabriel, she  _ didn’t  _ have the ability to heal. While her performance wasn’t wearing down any, Gabriel imagined the blows he’d been managing to get on her were adding up in terms of pain. It was almost enough to make him sympathetic.

“No.” Gabriel told her, more for her benefit that his own. “I’m done. What time is it?” 

An uncertain sound. “We’ve been out here a few hours. I don’t know.” 

A feeble grunt from Gabriel, and he laid there for a moment, attempting to catch his breath. 

“Perhaps we can save sparring for tomorrow.” Amelie said, folding her arms. She had moved far enough away to lean on the great, shade-bearing tree. 

“That’d be nice,” Gabriel murmured. He managed to roll onto his belly, propping himself up with an elbow. He had to stop for a moment, panting, then get to his knees, then onto his feet. Weariness had begun to creep back into him- Mondatta’s tea worked wonders, but apparently not after hours of intense combat. 

“Before we finish, I’d like you to show me your teleporting. I never was able to do it.” 

“Where do you want me to go?” Gabriel asked. 

“I don’t care, so long as you come back.” 

Gabriel shifted his stance a little bit, taking a deep breath.

He  _ knew  _ what teleporting felt like. His entire body being whiplashed and dropped into an entire other space. The wrench in his gut, the breath being ripped from his nostrils, the weightlessness then crash to the earth. 

Teleporting only to tumble into Jack’s arms. 

There was a roar in his ears, one that he  _ thought  _ could have been present when he had teleported before, overshadowed by sneezes prior to this. 

He watched his body be built- watched his skin ripple like food coloring in water, rapidly building his body back to its old form in moments. 

He looked around, turning his attention off his newly built body. 

He was in a small bedroom. 

Ten feet by eight, maybe. Small enough to contain a bed, a desk, and some interesting decorations.

The first one that he made note of was a rack, bearing two swords. One was long, thin- not a broadsword, like a katana or something similar. The other was a shorter blade, fashioned in the same style. They were sheathed. 

There was a photo on the desk, framed. Two young, dark-haired Japanese children. One of them, six or seven years old. The other, nine or ten. With them, a no-nonsense old man. Hair coiffed delicately, a proud nose and jaw with narrow eyes that seemed to look down on everyone. A slightly chubby older woman, greying at the temples, Japanese and in a flowing silk dress. The presence of them all together suggested a family portrait, and Gabriel couldn’t help but shake the feeling they ought to be familiar. 

There was another painting, a stylized green dragon. Eastern in design, not western, with a noodly body and a more puppyish than snakish figure, without wings and with long whiskers. Antlers instead of horns, a crest running down its back instead of spines. The painting was old- the date and a name was scrawled in the lower corner,  _ 1977, Shimada.  _

That name was increasingly familiar, and he wondered if he’d met a dragon somewhere along the line and forgot about it.

Nope, that seemed like something he’d remember. 

The bed was unmade. Gabriel laid his hands on the sheets and found them warm enough to suggest that someone or something had been here recently. That, plus the cup of still-steaming tea and the presence of an un-bookmarked book on the desk. Didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out that someone was, well,  _ home.  _

He was still trying to piece it out when something hit him from behind. Arms locked around his upper torso, a body slamming down on top of his.

Gabriel was thrown forward on his belly, half-on the bed and half off, with something hissing and spitting an inch away from his right ear. He let out a sharp cry of fright, immediately slamming his elbow as hard as he could up into the weight on his back. He thought he heard a crack of what might’ve been ribs, and evidently more than one was enough to dissuade his attacker from being there. The weight disappeared and Gabriel attempted to get to his feet, but it came right back. 

“You should not have come back, Reyes-san.” Genji’s voice whispered into his ear. Gabriel cringed, the warmth from his breath tickling his skin  _ uncomfortable,  _ to say the least. His limbs started feeling heavier, his heart slowed- Genji murmured something soft and sweet in Japanese. Although he didn’t know the language, Gabriel knew the intention well enough. 

_ Stay here. Be at peace. _

A vampire trick.

And it was working.

Gabriel’s limbs loosened, his mind grew heavy and foggy. There was a drunkenness about having Genji this close- Skin burning hot on skin, a heady pleasure that seemed as if it could melt Gabriel out of his own skin. 

Genji rearranged him on the bed, and Gabriel couldn’t muster up the strength to stop him, or the willpower to muster up the strength to stop him. He was warm, satiated, full- Body and mind convinced there was no danger, even though something akin to a  _ soul  _ was pitifully crying out for him to fight back. 

A tongue bathed up his neck, and Gabriel twitched, managing a grunt. Genji soothed him with a soft murmur of comfort, angling his head so his throat was bare and ready to bite. 

“Every pulse of your heart brings such sweetness around your body.” Genji traced Gabriel’s jugular with the tip of his tongue, evidently enjoying himself. “It’s not fair that humans get to keep this to themselves. It’s not  _ fair  _ that  _ Hanzo  _ got to-” 

Some of the spell was broken with Genji’s anger. Gabriel attempted to lurch forward and deseat Genji, but the man shushed him and quelled his movements by gingerly kissing the lobe of his ear. 

“I’m going to enjoy this.” 

There was no ceremony to Genji’s bite. It was hard, sharp, and painful, enough to jar Gabriel out of his daze and cry out in very real pain. 

“Shut up!” Genji hissed, voice muffled against Gabriel’s skin. He adjusted his toothhold, wrenching a miserable noise of pain from the fledgeling Reaper. “Do you want the others to hear?” 

_ Others? There were others?  _

Words seemed beyond him- he couldn’t quite formulate  _ words  _ in order to call for help, but soft noises weren’t beyond him. 

Genji seemed content enough with only soft sounds, which wasn’t a good sign. He took a restrained sip, and Gabriel fucking  _ swore  _ he could  _ feel  _ his blood shooting out of his body. 

It was not a good sensation.

Evidently the first taste was enough to spurn Genji for more. He gripped Gabriel’s body tighter, digging his teeth harder into the fledgeling Reaper’s throat. Uncomfortable groans of appreciation and delight came from the feeding vampire, dashing Gabriel’s vague hopes that his new Reaper blood would taste bad enough for Genji to stop.

If anything, it looked like the opposite. This was not Hanzo’s restrained thirst in the face of death- this was a spoiled brat eating like a king after a decade of fasting. Genji was slurping it up like it wasn’t precious, life-giving liquid that could kill Gabriel if Genji drank too much.

It was almost stunning how quickly Gabriel went from an easy, vampire-induced warmth, to dizziness, confusion, and a hint of chill because he was missing so much blood. It was a miserable, terrible experience for about a few minutes, providing nothing but pain and the foreign sensation of blood being ripped from his neck.

Then the warmth kicked in. 

Gabriel’s knees pressed together subconsciously, shots of lust and warmth and all sorts of swirling,  _ unpleasant  _ thoughts such as  _ I’m wearing too many clothes  _ and too many sentences involving  _ I want  _ and  _ Genji.  _ It was unnatural, sickening lust, but it burned so hot and bright and affected him  _ physically  _ to the point where it was  _ impossible  _ to ignore. He refused to rut against the bed like some kind of goddamn animal, but he was whimpering and twisting, body too hot under the confines of his skin.

Genji pulled back with a soft slurping noise after a while, a noise of contentment leaving him. “Your blood… Is,  _ ngh…”  _ There was another sharp, painful bite on the other side of his neck, prompting Gabriel to return from his death-like stillness to jerk in surprise. “ _ Delicious.”  _

Fucking fantastic. 

_ Gotta… Restrain him, gotta teleport away, gotta…  _

Everything felt so fuzzy. 

For a moment, he forgot who he was. He thought, for a brief snippet, that he belonged to Genji, that this was routine and normal, that Genji should have open access to his blood and anything else he desired. His legs spread a little, accommodating Genji and anything else he’d like to do other than drinking his  _ blood…  _

Genji was murmuring something about thralls, even with his teeth buried in Gabriel’s neck. 

_ Am I a thrall?  _ He wondered, tired and distant. The dizziness and hot, lust-driven pleasure was starting to fade, leaving him with an all-encompassing tiredness and a sick clench to his stomach that made him think maybe he was about to die.

_ I can’t be about to die,  _ he reasoned with himself, unaware he was bordering on deliriousness.  _ I’m a fledgeling. I’m the most important baby bird… I reap…  _

=

Genji reluctantly withdrew his teeth from the nigh-unresponsive Gabriel. 

The mortal had gone quiet and still, his eyes glazed over. Genji had drunk a litre, maybe a litre and a half at most, so he was fully aware that Reyes-san wasn’t about to die anytime soon. 

There was something strange about Gabriel that Genji couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something about how he had been randomly appearing with no provocation. Something about how his eyes were now a dull shade of red. Something about how his blood had tasted like it’d been charged with energy, with some kind of yearning deliciousness that made Genji want to drain him to the bone. 

Even now he was thirsty, with his stomach full and well beyond the capacity of a normal feeding. Hell, he’d fed almost double or even triple what other vampires had in one sitting. If he had any more his stomach would probably explode. 

Ah well.

“Reyes-san.” He snapped his fingers in the man’s face. He remained incoherent, but he did gurgle out something about, nearest Genji could figure, birds? Anything that left him was nonsensical, and Genji wondered if he had, perhaps, overdone it a bit.

Naaah. 

“Hey,” He prodded Gabriel again. 

This time he did respond, though not in a way Genji expected.

His eyes smoldered a brighter, bloodier red, and he kicked Genji off his back.

No fucking way that a human who just lost that much blood could do this shit. Genji bared his teeth- he was fat on blood, at the physical peak. Gabriel could fight him, sure, but he’d goddamn lose.

Gabriel stood up, looking only slightly unsteady. After a few quick, fluttering blinks, he’d stabilized again, looking sharp and coherent. 

Uh-oh. 

=

The Reaper’s powerful, glowing warmth encompassed his entire body. Energy into tired limbs, vigor in the face of slicing off a good litre of blood, security in the midst of weakness, stability despite shaking hands. 

Genji lunged at him, and Gabriel’s original plan came to him in a snap. 

_ Restrain him and teleport.  _

A tendril of darkness shot out of the floor, wrapping around his middle and abruptly jerking Genji out of the air, slamming him bodily onto the ground. 

_ Come on, come on, take me back to Amelie-  _

A hissing, blood-fed vampire was difficult to restrain, evidently. He broke free of the first tendil and Gabriel frantically built another one, wrapping it around his throat and attempting to hold him down.

“What  _ are  _ you!?” Genji snarled, ripping at his mist-born collar with his nails. “This is-” 

“I gave you your fucking meal, shut up and go away,” Gabriel snapped. 

“I was going to-” 

“I don’t fucking care! Just sit down and be quiet while I figure this the fuck out, Genji.” 

The vampire ripped free of the shadow tendril’s hold, lunging at Gabriel. Shadowy appendages leapt off the walls, coiling around Genji until he was cocooned in darkness-

\- And Gabriel’s powers kicked in again, teleporting him across the state.

And, evidently bringing  _ Genji  _ along for the ride.

Genji broke free of his bonds with Gabriel’s momentary distraction, tackling him again and going for his throat. Teeth scissored into delicate skin, tallying up to three times Gabriel had been bit, and he panicked, flailing and shouting blindly. 

Genji’s weight was lifted, teeth going along with him, and Gabriel was met with the face of the djinni, Zenyatta.

“Oh my,” The djinni chided softly. “When I had told you to meet me, I did not mean quite so soon. And not with such a rambunctious guest.” 

Gabriel looked up- Genji was staring up at Zenyatta with unbridled awe, mouth hanging open as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. He had been scruffed, one of the djinni’s arms holding him in the air by the back of his shirt.

“Are you alright?” Zenyatta chimed gently. 

“Getting bit by a vampire isn’t  _ fun,”  _ Gabriel replied tartly, sitting up.

The three of them were in a small room- It had more or less the same decorating as his Reaper recovery room, or Jack’s cell, which meant they were probably in Zenyatta’s room back at the mansion.

“Master Zenyatta, I had  _ no  _ idea-” Genji blurted. 

“Be at peace, Genji. I trust you will behave if I put you down?” 

“Yes!” 

The djinni lowered the vampire to the floor, and Genji dusted himself off, looking like a cat who’d been caught shitting on the carpet. 

“Are your injuries healable?” Zenyatta directed the question at Gabriel.

“Yeah.” Gabriel could feel them closing already, with the slight application of his will. He didn’t think the payoff for the healing training would be quite so soon, but he was grateful for it. “I feel like shit.” 

“A state which was undoubtedly caused by my wayward student. Genji, I had thought you were abstaining from human blood…” 

“I was,” Genji’s tone adopted a slight whine. “But Hanzo bit him first…” 

“Reaper, did he get your permission to bite you?” 

“No,” Gabriel muttered, rubbing his throat and feeling pretty goddamn sour about the whole thing. 

“Wait,  _ what? He’s  _ the Reaper?” Genji sounded astonished, and that made Gabriel feel just a little bit better.

“Genji, do  _ not  _ change the subject.” Zenyatta chided. “You will be punished for this, either by my hand or by the Reaper’s. Wait for us outside- if anyone approaches you, tell them you’re my guest.” 

“But-” 

“Genji, please go outside. You do not want me to have to  _ make  _ you go outside.” 

There was a moment of silence, and Genji reluctantly conceded. “ _ Hai,  _ master.” 

The vampire plodded towards the door, opened it, and stepped out. The door slammed shut with a certain finality about it, and Gabriel breathed out deeply. 

“I expect you have questions.” Zenyatta said gently. “Give yourself a moment to reflect, to steady yourself, and we can talk.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: the original chapter title for this fic was "a second training montage with genji in it somewhere"


	30. Triptych

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel doles out Genji's punishment, learns of Zenyatta's suffering, and gets a glimpse into his future.

“The first matter of concern is Genji.” Zenyatta told him gently. “Being bitten is a terrible thing, particularly if the vampire is not gentle and the person being bitten is not consenting. Whatever punishment you are intending on inflicting, I beg of you to not end his life or take his soul.” 

Gabriel was mute for a moment. If it was worth taking  _ anyone’s  _ soul, Genji’s might be the best opportunity he was going to get. 

But he was ( kind of ) friends with Hanzo. How the hell was he going to justify that to Hanzo and the rest of them? 

_ Hi, I ate Genji’s soul and killed him. Can I still crash with you guys?  _

No. He didn’t want to  _ kill  _ Genji, at least… He didn’t think so. His thoughts were still muddled and disturbing, tainted by the Reaper and his own fear. Making rash, violent choices now was a bad idea. 

Then what punishment  _ would  _ Genji get? There was  _ no way  _ that Gabriel was going to let him get off scott free. Genji had been invasive, bratty, and had  _ bitten  _ him. If the Reaper hadn’t interjected in the lull, Gabriel might’ve  _ died  _ or become Genji’s thrall, and neither of those were appealing in the slightest.

“You’re deciding on a punishment, aren’t you?” Zenyatta said. “You don’t have to decide now. Perhaps it would be best to wait. Patience only yields sweeter fruit…”

“I want to punch him,” Gabriel said, decisively. 

“Pardon?”

“I want to punch him.”

“Well…” It was harder to tell what Zenyatta’s expression was due to his multitude of eyes, but he could guess that Zenyatta didn’t exactly like the idea. “It is your decision to make, Reaper. If that is his punishment, so be it.” 

Zenyatta helped Gabriel up, and the two of them headed outside. Genji was leaning up against the doorframe, looking sour. He perked upon seeing the two of them. 

The vampire immediately opened his mouth, as if to defend himself or say something, but Zenyatta shushed him first. 

“In a moment, Genji. The Reaper has decided on how he’ll punish you. I would ask that you do not retaliate or defend yourself unless your life is in peril.” 

There was a glint of unease in Genji’s eyes. Gabriel liked it more than he ought to. 

Zenyatta moved a few feet away, and that  _ unease  _ Genji was displaying grew to  _ worry.  _ Too prideful to apologize, Gabriel figured. Not that he would accept an apology, anyway. 

He drew back his fist, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh was unrealistically satisfying. Gabriel socked him in the jaw once, intending on that being the only blow, but there was something…  _ Soothing  _ about it. He grabbed the front of Genji’s shirt with his left hand, assuring he couldn’t get away.

He slammed his fist into Genji’s face, rewarded with the  _ crunch  _ of cartilage and Genji’s startled shriek of pain. Although Zenyatta had told him to not retaliate, the vampire completely disregarded Zenyatta’s advice and attempted to squirm away. Genji’s nails raked Gabriel’s wrist, trying to force him to let go, while he dug in his feet and attempted to pull away. 

It didn’t work. Gabriel’s hand on his shirt held fast- In fact, the material held long enough for Gabriel to get a few extra ( incredibly satisfying ) punches. It took about a half-dozen hits before a final blow was forceful enough to rip away a swatch of Genji’s shirt and free him from Gabriel’s hold. 

The vampire wisely chose not to fight and instead ran with his metaphorical tail between his legs. He scampered down the hallway, soft footsteps pounding, and Gabriel was left feeling very… Satisfied. He was breathing deeply, staring at Genji’s retreating back with an odd feeling of contentment.

Then his hand started stinging and he glanced down, dismayed to find his knuckles bloodied. His own blood or Genji’s? Not sure. Genji had scrambled away before Gabriel could see if he’d started bleeding.

“Well, if there hadn’t been bad blood before…” Zenyatta sighed. Gabriel wondered if he had intended that as a joke. “Wait in my room, please. I have to speak with him, I’ll return soon.” 

The djinni headed down the hallway without another word.

Was he mad? Gabriel had no clue. Maybe he had crossed a line, in the djinni’s opinion. 

_ What does his opinion matter? Genji deserved it. I don’t have to be the better man, I’m allowed to have-  _ Revenge wasn’t exactly the right word, and he reworded it in his head.  _ I’m allowed to punish him if he does bad things. I was a cop, that was my job. And now that I’m the Reaper, it’s even more of my job.  _

He shoved aside all his misgivings. He  _ had  _ done the right thing. He hadn’t killed Genji or even hurt him that badly. The arrogant young vampire would bounce back- Gabriel had no doubt he’d shed this brief humiliation within a day or two. Whether or not he would consider them  _ even  _ was another matter entirely, and whether or not Genji was the type to hold grudges remained to be seen. 

Gabriel had to rely on Zenyatta to smooth things over, he guessed. For now, he’d listen to what the djinni had told him to. 

He headed back into the Zenyatta’s room, shutting the door behind him. 

It was a modest space. A small cot in one corner, the blankets tucked neatly but not with prudish diligence. There was a bookshelf, tidily kept dusted, a few books haphazardly placed on top of one another. Gabriel skimmed their titles. 

_ How To Transcend The Mortal Plane-  _ in brackets underneath, (  _ not aeroplanes! )  _ written by one Ms. I. Riss. On the cover was a female djinn, sitting on a stool in an airy, impossibly clean apartment. Her legs were folded, and warm brown eyes looked up at him. Evidently djinns came in different races, just like people- She was dark skinned, with dark, tightly curled hair. She was still pretty, even with the elven ears, sharp claws, splotches of grey on her chin, and nine eyes. Gabriel wondered if there were djinn models as he set the book back.

Gabriel examined another book. 

_ A Look at the Reaper: Myths, Legends, First-Hand Accounts  _ was the proudly proclaimed cover. It was a hardback book, and didn’t have a book jacket to go along with it, so there was no illustration. It did, however, bear the authors. It was written by the  _ Historic Council for the Documentation of Ancient Evils,  _ which seemed like an oddly specific thing to be. Maybe there were more ancient evils than he thought.

The book was dense. Very dense. Gabriel paged through the first couple of eyewitness accounts of the Reaper, quickly realizing that not only was the book  _ dense,  _ it was also enormously  _ dull.  _ He shut it and put it back on the shelf. 

One of them appeared to be a book of fairy tales. The first fable ended in the main protagonist being viciously dismembered, accompanied by a delightfully bloody cartoon drawing in an absolutely inappropriate cutesy style. He shelved that book, too. There ought to be some kind of rule where you couldn’t add that much self-indulgent gore into a drawing like that- the clash of cartoon and viscera didn’t go great together. Gabriel doubted he could get through the whole book if all the stories ended in a similar fashion.

Gabriel wondered if this was standard for mythical children. It was amusing, although disturbing, to imagine Jack as a preschooler reading one of these bloody fairy tales while his little monster classmates tried to kill one another on a play-mat. 

The fourth book was a little better. It appeared to be a collection of poems, although in a language Gabriel couldn’t even comprehend. If it didn’t have a Latin alphabet as its base, it was beyond him. Knowing what he knew about Zenyatta, and judging by the sparse, lovingly rendered illustrations, Gabriel could guess that it was probably written in Nepali. 

“The authors have been forgotten to time.” Zenyatta’s said, voice somber. Gabriel nearly startled out of his skin- Either he’d been more engrossed in attempting to read Nepali than he thought, Zenyatta could teleport, or he was just really, really quiet. “I remember watching the ink dry when she wrote the verse you’re on. She was a lovely student. Would you like me to read it to you?”

“Uh-” Gabriel closed the poetry book and put it back. “No. I’m good.” 

“Very well. Genji and I have spoken, and he has come to see reason. He will return home in a few day’s time- for now, he is a guest. Does that concern you?”

“I think I’m more than a match for him.” Gabriel murmured, looking down at the congealed blood on his knuckles. 

“Perfect. Though I  _ would  _ have to ask you to not get violent unless he engages you first.” A slight shake of the monk’s head. “Genji has gotten wild without my teaching, and I would like to return him down the correct path. Although he may seem arrogant, self-centered, vicious…”

“Not really doing much to help his case.” Gabriel folded his arms. 

“Well,” Zenyatta dipped his head submissively. “When I tutored him seventy years ago, he was not like this. At least, not when he left.” 

Gabriel said nothing, but arched an eyebrow, beckoning Zenyatta to continue. 

“Oh, yes. He was my student for quite some time.  _ Years.  _ Have they told you their origin?”

“Uhh…” Gabriel wrinkled his nose, not quite recalling. He was pretty sure Hanzo had mentioned  _ something  _ when they had first met, but didn’t remember it for the life of him.

“Hmm. They are from a proud vampire clan, originating in Japan- The Shimadas. As old as the nation itself- fierce warriors, elegant and sophisticated rulers. Very stringent on tradition and the roles of children in the household. Genji was stubborn, arrogant, and pigheaded. He spat in the face of the thousands of years of tradition and ran wild. He did not have the good graces to keep his wild amusements a secret. Hanzo was sent to kill him when he was only twenty-five.”

“About killing vampires- are any of the myths true?”

“Garlic does not hurt vampires. A steak to the heart would not necessarily kill one- They are tough, resilient creatures. Sunlight doesn’t weaken them in the slightest, nor do they-” There was an amused quirk to Zenyatta’s smile. “- Sparkle. The most efficient way to kill a vampire is for them to bleed to death, though even that is difficult.

“Returning to my point- Hanzo failed. Hanzo struck his brother twice, but couldn’t deliver the final blow necessary. He begged Genji to leave the clan, and Genji ended up with the choice of going to the Shambali monastery in exile or being killed. He chose the first and went on to become one of my brightest pupils. He was difficult to work with, but the years wore him down. Where there had once been arrogance, viciousness, disregard, there grew to be warmth, understanding, passion.” Zenyatta’s eyes fluttered shut. “Excuse me. I’m growing emotional, give me a moment…” 

Gabriel let him take his time. After a moment or two, Zenyatta’s light blue eyes opened again. “He left my monastery after a decade of my tutelage. We have exchanged letters and words over the phone- It’s unfortunate that he has returned to some of his more childish ways. Do not tell him I’ve said this, but I think… I think it’s an effect of loneliness.” 

“Genji acts like an absolute prick because he’s  _ lonely?  _ He had an entire  _ house  _ full of people to talk to-” Gabriel began, outraged. 

“Let me correct myself.” Zenyatta amended. “Vampires have a distinct need for romantic and sexual affection. It is part of their being, just as much as their lust for blood. His behavior is a cry for attention, and targeting you in particular was part of that. You were new, human, and pardon me saying so, but you’re decently attractive.”

“Thanks?” Gabriel wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. 

“Genji saw you as a potential romantic or sexual partner, which is why he’s… Come on so strong. I don’t believe you’ll have any more trouble with him after today, however.”

“What did you say to him?” Gabriel asked. 

“Our relationship was far more than  _ master  _ and  _ apprentice.”  _ Zenyatta’s voice lapsed into a dreamy warmth. “He has no more reason to chase you when I’m here- now that I’ve known he’s grown so  _ unruly,  _ I suspect we’ll be spending a lot of time with one another.” 

Gabriel wasn’t  _ exactly  _ sure he needed to know that, but at least Genji would hopefully settle the fuck down if he was going to be with Zenyatta. That aside, knowing that Genji lusted after him ( or  _ had  _ lusted after him? ) was kind of creepy. 

If the Reaper hadn’t kicked in… 

He didn’t want to think about it. 

Gabriel had been  _ willing  _ to- had  _ wanted _ to-

_ Don’t think about it.  _

“In summation, Genji will leave you alone. We have much catching up to do, and I must confess it is…  _ Nice  _ to see my wayward pupil again.” Gabriel thought that might’ve been a  _ blush _ spreading across Zenyatta’s cheeks, but the djinni straightened himself out before Gabriel could be sure. “That being said, we should discuss my case now so I can be with Genji later.” 

“Alright.” Gabriel ambled over to the bed and sat down, anticipating that this was going to be a long explanation.

“The djinn and mankind have not gotten along particularly very well. Djinn are nigh immortal beings- fortune tellers, wish granters, the servants of the earth borne of fire, clay, and wind. Nature beckons to us, and we listen to her, and the glow of the Iris whispers truths of the world and glimpses of what can be and what will be.

“The djinn are manufactured, akin to the same way Torbjorn’s golems are. We are not flesh and bone, but clay and spirit, knit together by the warmth of Nature and her solemn wife, the Iris. There are those who are envious of our power, of our birth. They should make claim that the djinn have no right to walk the earth the same as other men- That they should be bound in servitude, that it is as foolish to liberate a djinni or a golem as it is to free a machine. 

“There are those who feel as though they are  _ entitled  _ to a djinni’s insight. To our fortune-telling, to our wish-granting. That we should not deny a person their future or their power. And if we should deny, we are slaughtered. Although we are eternal, although we can hear the Iris’s soft whispers and feel Nature’s strength, if we are cut down then we return to the clay. The djinn are reincarnated by the Iris, but she is reliant on us to be her link to Nature. 

“Should there be a djinn genocide, we will cease to exist. The wives- Nature and the Iris- will be separated from one another for eternity.” 

Zenyatta shook his head slightly.

“The djinn are dying, Reaper. Outside of the Shambali monastery, the djinn are not safe.” 

Gabriel’s head was spinning from all he’d learned, but he scrambled to get his wits together. “The djinn are  _ enormously  _ powerful, aren’t they? Whoever or  _ whatever  _ is killing you, can’t you just wish them away or fight them?”

“The djinn are pacifists. We do not,  _ can  _ not raise a hand against Nature’s creations. Which is why we asked for Overwatch’s help.” 

Gabriel’s guts twisted. “And they didn’t help you.” 

“Yes.” Zenyatta exhaled slowly. “I would like you to  _ make  _ them see reason. You would not go unrewarded, at the end of it all. The Reaper always demands a price, and I have a fair exchange for you.” 

“What is it?”

“When your task is done you will get your reward.” Zenyatta insisted. “But I can, for now, offer a small payment in advance.”

Gabriel was too intrigued to say  _ no.  _ “Alright, can you tell me what  _ this  _ one is?”

“You are about to learn, but preparing you for it won’t hurt. I will call upon the Iris herself, and she will give us a glimpse into your future. Or, quite possibly, multiple futures.” 

He was tempted to say  _ no.  _ He didn’t  _ want  _ to know what would happen, didn’t need to see his destiny mandated, but… 

He had to know. 

“Do it.”

Zenyatta hummed softly. He sat down on the floor, closing all nine of his eyes. 

The djinni assumed a lotus position, breathing deeply in and out. Zenyatta seemed to glow, his coppery skin tinting gold, faintly radiating outward. 

He began to float, drifting off of the floor until he hovered several feet. 

Golden arms seemingly formed out of light itself stretched out of his back, like a pair of wings. More arms split off, until he had eight in total. Each of them fanned out in the rough shape of a circle, and the djinni breathed out a quiet word. 

 

=

 

“Don’t bother getting up.” Gabriel’s lips tickled the side of Jack’s jaw. “I’ll get it for you.” 

His forearm disappeared, phasing out of reality momentarily. When it returned, he was holding an unopened can of cola. Jack accepted it, the  _ snap  _ of the tab and the  _ hiss  _ of cola a homely sound in the silence.

“Thanks.” Jack kissed his forehead gently and Gabriel gave a quiet snort. 

Gabriel and Jack had been cuddling on Ana’s couch for a while, Gabriel’s head on the griffin’s shoulder and the griffin’s arm around his waist. 

“It’s only ‘cos  _ I  _ know you’re going to break your spine if you try to get up, old man.” He said playfully. 

“Old man-” Jack said, faux-outraged. “Ana, I’m not  _ that  _ old, right?” 

“Of course not, Jack.” Ana said, amused. She was sitting across from them, in one of her beat-up old chairs. She stirred her tea, adding a lump of sugar. Reinhardt was in the kitchen, slaving over his currywurst, which he had promised would be the  _ greatest currywurst on the planet.  _ The smell wafting from the open door was certainly  _ something.  _

“Now, I know you came by for more than indulging an old woman and her husband.” Ana took a quiet sip of her tea, amusement written over her features. She shot a pointed look at the engagement rings adorning their fingers. “Which one of you was the one who proposed?”

“It was Gabriel,” Jack announced before the Reaper could get a word in. “You should’ve seen him, Ana, he was bright red and stuttering-”

“I was  _ not,  _ white bread!” 

“- You tried to  _ play it off,  _ Gabe, when I didn’t immediately say yes-” 

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you-” Gabriel partially covered his face with one hand. 

“We’d been dating for  _ four years,  _ Gabe, how could I have said  _ no?”  _ Jack’s smile was warm and brilliant- he took Gabriel’s hand in his own and gingerly squeezed. “It was an awkward proposal.”

“But you said yes.” Ana’s smile was hidden by the rim of her teacup. “Am  _ I  _ going to get a wedding invitation?” 

“That’s why we came over,” Jack said, nodding. “It’s going to be in Indiana-” 

“Oh God, we still have to invite your parents,” Gabriel moaned. “How are you going to tell them you’re getting married to the Reaper?” 

“I think Pa will just be happy I settled down.” Jack shrugged slightly. “Ma’ll be there.” 

“Do you have groomsmen?” Ana asked, ponderously. “A best man? A ringbearer? Flower girl?” 

“I was going to ask Hanzo to by my best man,” Gabriel said. “Jack was going to ask Tracer to be his maid of honor.” 

“We still have a lot to plan,” Jack admitted sheepishly. “Gabriel proposed only a week ago.” 

“CURRYWURST IS READY!” Reinhardt bellowed from the kitchen. “It will be  _ delicious,  _ my friends! Come eat it while it’s still hot!” 

“Do you think Jamison would be a good flower girl?” Gabriel mused aloud. His forearm disappeared again, reappearing whilst clutching a plate of steaming currywurst. “Oh, is  _ this  _ what currywurst looks like?” 

Something abruptly occurred to Gabriel, and he gave Jack a sly, low look. “Reinhardt has thicker sausage than you, Jack.”

“Well, you’re not marrying  _ Reinhardt,  _ are you?” Jack retorted. 

“He had  _ better  _ not be.” Ana gave him the evil eye, her own wedding ring glinting on her finger. 

Gabriel held up his unoccupied hand as a gesture for peace, then offered out the plate. “Anyone want currywurst?” 

“Wait!” Massive footfalls that could only be Reinhardt’s pounded down the hallway, and the giant managed to skid to a halt before he crashed into the coffee table in the livingroom. His eyes were bright, anticipating. “I want to see what you think!” 

 

=

 

“Reaper?” The twiggy little homunculus before the supreme being of evil quivered slightly. His master, knowing the Reaper’s legendary and incredibly short temper, had sent him in his stead. 

The Reaper had rampant mood swings, and made decisions almost completely arbitrarily. It was a fifty-fifty chance that the little homunculus wouldn’t get his soul ripped out, even when the case he was presenting was very obviously unfair in his master’s direction. 

The Reaper was a massive, imposing figure. Sharp, sharklike teeth, unfriendly, glowing red eyes, burning like coals in the depths of his shadowed hood. His beard, short and trimmed, was flaked with dried blood. Supposedly he had once been a human man, but after only a half decade, he looked like a monster. His pallour was a chalky grey. His skin was bubbling and roiling, releasing periodic wisps of steam like a boiling pot. He was bigger than the average mortal man- Massive thighs, massive chest, big arms, big shoulders. At one time he the claim had been he had been six feet tall, but now he stood closer to seven. 

Behind him was countless rows of trophies. A decapitated, shrunken gorilla’s head. Feathered harpy arms mounted on a wall behind him, hands lovingly clasped together. One bore dark, raven black feathers, the other a dove white. A plaque was underneath, with some sick sense of honor-  _ As loving in death as they had been in life.  _

Other such trophies adorned the wall. A wicked hook, next to a pixie that’d been pinned to the wall like a butterfly or insect. A mounted werewolf’s head. Eight vampire canines, gilded script on its plaque reading  _ Shimada.  _ Dried skin that’d been ripped from two separate people, two Horus tattoos. Two jars containing nine djinn eyes each. A mounted yeti’s head, accompanied by a bear’s.  _ Strong in death, loving in death. _

The Reaper still had a living trophy in his lap. 

A transhuman griffin named Jack Morrison, the last shred of morality that the unstable, homicidal Reaper had left. Jack was barefoot, wearing cargo pants and multicolored jacket.  He wore cuffs that prevented his transformation back into his griffin body, and had for years on end. 

His neck and jaw were multicolored, dappled by hickies and bruises, most of which had been made during this meeting. The Reaper bore absolutely no interest in the homunculus, preferring to kiss and nuzzle at the griffin through the homunculus’s entire explanation of his master’s problem. 

“Reaper?” He prompted again. “D-do you need m-me to repeat anything-” 

“No.” The Reaper looked down at him. Cold red eyes glittered, regarding the homunculus the same way one regards a bug. 

“D-Did you hear…” The homunculus swallowed. “Did you hear what I said?”

The Reaper grunted dismissively, gaze returning to the griffin on his lap. He nibbled affectionately at the Jack’s ear, ignoring the soft sound of discomfort pulled from the poor wretch. “Jack was listening.” 

“Y, yes, so- This is why my master requested an audience with you, and he’s openly h-hoping that you consider-”  

The Reaper cut over the homunculus, baleful eyes sighting on Jack, who bore them unflinchingly. “What does he want?”

“This homunculus’s master-”

“Remind me what that is again?” 

“A homunculus is a small human being made through alchemy- they’re usually servants.” 

“Servants?” Reaper’s eyes darted to the homunculus, a low, threatening growl rumbling through his chest. It bore the same warning thunder did just before lightning struck. “Your master doesn’t have the balls to see me in person?”

“H- He thought th-that- It would not be wise to risk himself-” 

The Reaper stood up. The griffin went tumbling off his lap, just barely managing to catch himself before he slammed his face into the immaculate marble floor. 

“If he wants an audience-” 

The Reaper disappeared in a flurry of smoke, and the homunculus looked around frantically. 

He re-appeared in front of the homunculus, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and jerking him off the ground, so they were nose to nose.

“Tell him to talk to me  _ himself.”  _

The Reaper reached into the homunculus, and he squealed and wailed and pleaded, thrashing to the best of his ability. 

Something inside him was grabbed, and he shrieked in desperate fear, sobs and curses and pleads falling from his mouth like water out of a newly broken dam. 

“Gabriel!” 

The Reaper stiffened. 

He turned on heel, striding back towards the fallen griffin, who was just now attempting to get up. 

“If you take his soul, he can’t tell his master,” Jack reasoned. Concern flashed in the griffin’s blue eyes, and the homunculus wanted desperately to sob his thanks, but he remained quiet and docile. “Gabriel, it’s alright. Calm down, just breathe a little.” 

The Reaper’s red eyes were dizzy, unfocused. He shook his head, giving off a soft snort. 

He dropped the homunculus, who was shaken by the impact but giddy at not being dead. 

“You’re not worth it.” The Reaper muttered, stalking back to his throne. 

The griffin stood, but made no move to return to the Reaper’s lap. Jack lingered too long- The Reaper grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him forward, forcibly pulling him back where he belonged. He grabbed a fistful of Jack’s hair, holding him in place during a fierce, possessive kiss.

The homunculus was just happy to escape with his life. 

 

=

 

It had to be done.

That’s what she told herself.

His eyes were red. God, it’d been so long since one of the Reapers had been this powerful. 

“I’m sorry, Gabriel.” 

Her gloved fingers quietly closed the lids on those unnatural eyes- she folded his hands, neatly arranging them in funeral style. The blood that spattered his robes was dark, tarry, thick- Someone would have to care for his body. Probably not her. His face was unnaturally still, lips slightly parted. No one would mistake this for sleep- He was too ashen, too quiet, too motionless. 

She sat down next to him. 

“I almost lost, can you believe that?” She told him, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. “I’ve known you for ten years. I knew exactly how you fought, but I underestimated you. I haven’t seen a Reaper this strong for a long, long time. You could’ve been one of the best Reapers, but I just- I had to make sure. I couldn’t watch it corrupt you.

“I know what you’re thinking- Or, what you would’ve thought, I guess. I wouldn’t be corrupted, I’m too strong for that.”

She shook her head, a sad smile playing over her face.

“They all say that, Gabriel. And every single one turns bad.” 

A sigh.

“Goodbye, Gabe.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel real clever for that chapter title, lemme tell ya'll
> 
> EDIT: i'm still taking requests & questions at https://legendary-bard.tumblr.com !
> 
> SECOND EDIT: This chapter marks the end of the second act! If I had to estimate, we're going to end with a clean 35 or 40 chapters and less than 150,000 words. We're getting close, folks!


	31. The Night Before Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has troubles coming to terms with his presented futures, and he and Jack plan a venture to the far-off land of Indiana.

Gabriel jerked forward, sweat beading on his face and his heart jackhammering at about a million miles a minute. He couldn’t help the panicked heave from momentarily seizing his lungs. The Reaper clouded around him, ready to fight in response to his fear.

Zenyatta let out a soft sound like the clearing of a throat, and he looked up at the djinni, little aftershocks of terror making his hands shake and quivers run down his spine. 

“Oh my God.” Gabriel whispered. 

Gabriel cradled his head in his hands, prompting Zenyatta to gently put his hands on the Reaper’s shoulders. He kneaded gently, comfortingly, and Gabriel slowly relaxed into his touch. 

“Do not speak about what you saw.” Zenyatta instructed, voice soft and harmonious. 

“Did you see it?” Gabriel asked hoarsely.

“Yes.” 

“What did you think-” 

“We cannot discuss what we have seen. You cannot mention it to anyone.” Zenyatta’s shoulder massage grew slightly more forceful.

“Yeah.” Gabriel’s eyelids fluttered shut. “Yeah.” 

“I will walk you back to your room. I should have warned you that the future can sometimes be… Intense.” Zenyatta looked anxious. “I am not typically so forgetful… I should have known that the future of a Reaper would be startling.” 

“Yeah,  _ startling.”  _ Gabriel shot a look back at him, trying to keep the note of hysteria out of his voice. “I fucking  _ died-”  _

Zenyatta’s face tightened with disapproval. A sharp smack came down on Gabriel’s wrist, quicker than his eyes could follow, making him yelp and nearly jump out of his skin. It surprised him more than it hurt. 

“We cannot discuss it, Reaper.” Zenyatta said firmly. “Please keep what you’ve seen to yourself.” 

Gabriel shifted- he got to a knee, then to his feet, slightly unsteady. Zenyatta stood behind him, putting a steadying hand on Gabriel’s back. 

“Shall I escort you back to your room?” 

A slow exhale from Gabriel. “Yeah.” 

=

Gabriel slept miserably for the next couple of days. 

This bout of insomnia was kept a secret until Jack told Gabriel he looked terrible during breakfast. Gabriel confessed to Jack about his lack of sleep, and he should’ve  _ known _ that the perfect school golden boy would tattle on him.  

He was with Amelie, doing combat training. The day after he’d viewed his future, Angela had given him a regiment he was to follow every day. 

Wake up at eight. An hour for breakfast. At nine sharp he headed to Angela’s room, and she attempted to teach him about the supernatural world for an incredibly boring two hours. Jack joined in most of the time, standing by the door and scribbling the occasional note on a scrap of paper he’d probably pilfered from somewhere or another.

There was a break at eleven, where he had a light lunch, then Gabriel headed back to Angela’s room for another hour of review. At noon he headed out into the yard to do combat training with Amelie. This typically lasted no more than an hour- At one, he was given free reign to do whatever he pleased for three hours. He spent most of this time with either Jack or Zenyatta, although he occasionally took it to explore the mansion and the grounds. 

At four, he was back to another hour of combat training with Amelie. At five, he got two hours before dinner for more free time, which he devoted a chunk of to showering. Prior to this, he couldn’t really afford to have longer than three minute showers, but he basked in the warm spray for fifteen minutes or more without having to pay an excessive water bill or get yelled at for wasting water.

The routine reminded him of school, in a way. A lot of learning and a lot of fighting, though this time it was about magical creatures instead of trigonometry and he could teleport in his fights. There weren’t four other grubby teenagers with concealed knives circling him during his brawls, either, which made for a much more relaxed combat setting. 

There was dinner at seven. Everyone congregated at the table and ate- It mostly proceeded the same way every day. Zenyatta would inquire after everyone’s health, they would tell him. The golems would take their orders, then lumber back into the kitchen. Gabriel hoped to catch glimpses of Torbjorn and Sombra, but they never turned up for dinner or lunch. He had seen Sombra when he came down for an early breakfast once, wearing a worn purple bathrobe with a pair of matching slippers. She had disappeared upon realizing Gabriel was there- some kind of invisibility?- and he hadn’t seen her since. 

After dinner, Jack was commanded to stay in his room and not roam the mansion. Gabriel typically joined him afterwards, asking Jack to help him go over all the things Angela had taught him that morning- the real reason why Jack dropped in on their lessons when he already knew everything. Jack had figured that if he pitched in with Gabriel’s education it would get Angela to loosen up and understand that he had Gabriel’s best interests at heart. Gabriel wasn’t sure about that, but Jack’s company made pouring over the lessons more bearable. 

Jack was easier to wheedle, though. Whereas Angela was incredibly firm about the duration and content of her lessons, sometimes going over the hour mark and cruelly slicing the extra time off his hour of lunch break, Jack was relatively slack. If Gabriel complained enough, he caved like a house of cards in a hurricane and let Gabriel stop early or take breaks when he wanted.

After that hour of studying, Jack would allow them to stop for a break ( if they hadn’t already ). There was some spark between them, something that made it very easy to relax when he was around Jack. They could sit one another, without uttering a word, and it was… _ pleasant.  _ After the break was over, depending on how tired Jack was or wasn’t, he would send Gabriel out so he could get some rest or continue studying until Gabriel got tired of hearing about mandrakes and spriggans and slyzards and werebears and wereboars or tracing the bloodline of an ancient clan of fruit bat based vampires. Understanding the monsters he could understand, but why in the name of fuck did he need to know that the sole surviving member of the Pomelo vampire clan was called Erebus Ettin the Fifth and lived in Maldives? As an addendum to that, where the fuck was Maldives?

( Jack gently told him it was an island country, slightly southwest to India, and helpfully provided a map that’d been in a nearby atlas. Jack also suggested that Gabriel get someone to teach him geography, and he would happily volunteer, but Gabriel threw a pencil at him and told him to shut the hell up. ) 

Gabriel typically turned in at ten- padded out of Jack’s room and to his own, usually lying on the bed and wishing that he had a phone or a laptop or something. Not having one made it even more difficult to get any sleep, as he was used to the soft burbling of a YouTube video or a Netflix show in the background. He got spotty amounts of sleep, snatching thirty minutes, waking up, and shifting anxiously for another half hour until he could settle back into an uneasy rest. Glimpsing the future made his lack of sleep worse. Now he knew- he knew just how terrible being the Reaper could be. 

He had killed  _ everyone.  _ Zenyatta included. In the brief vision he had seen, the implication of what he had been doing, what he had  _ done  _ to Jack- it was gutchurning. How could he have fallen that far? How could he  _ do  _ anything like that? He had ripped the tattoo off of Ana’s  _ face,  _ dried the skin and had it as a  _ trophy.  _ Killed them all. 

The problem was that he kept  _ thinking  _ about it. Wondering what it would be like to have Jack at his beck and call like that. Wondering what it would  _ be like  _ and if he would  _ enjoy it at all  _ and a cavalcade of thoughts that tumbled too quickly for Gabriel to fully develop them. He was disgusted with himself for entertaining the idea of using Jack as some kind of-  _ toy,  _ to be battered around and used, but he thought about it all the same. He dug his nails into his arms, willing the pain to send the thoughts away, but they still whirled around and refused to just  _ stop. _

There were long moments where he curled up on the bed, and he was certain he’d been in a fetal position for hours, but when he looked at the clock it’d been ten minutes. It made Gabriel feel the worst thing he possibly could- powerless. 

When he’d told Jack about his inability to sleep at breakfast one day, he didn’t think anything of it. Jack had looked concerned, but he didn’t make a big deal about it. Gabriel didn’t tell him that doubts about himself and the future plagued him, only casually mentioning that he’d been having difficulty sleeping and staying asleep. 

And Jack, the beautifully obnoxious man he was, tattled on him to Angela. 

“Don’t throw your kicks so high!” Amelie instructed. “This is a fight, not ballet.” 

“You  _ told  _ me to-” 

“No, I didn’t. When you kick that high you are  _ off balance.  _ If you’re fighting multiple opponents, you’ll be pushed over and helpless in mere moments. I told you to aim higher, but chances are you will not connect if you aim for someone’s head, and it leaves you vulnerable. The groin is the most optimal place to kick-” 

“You didn’t say that!” Gabriel objected thinly. 

“I didn’t mean you had to try to kick me in the face when I said  _ kick higher,  _ Gabriel!” 

Gabriel huffed, wiping sweat away from his temples. The chill of the air really did not make perspiring all that pleasant. 

Amelie caught sight of Angela first, her face smoothing into a more impassive expression. She leaned against the giant tree next to their combat clearing, folding her arms. Not pleased at being interrupted by Angela, it looked like. “What does she want?” 

“I have no idea.” Gabriel panted. “We’ll figure it out when she tells us.” 

The white-feathered harpy lightly jogged up between the two of them, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and putting on a surprisingly genuine smile. “Excuse me- Amelie, I’ll need to borrow Gabriel for a moment.” 

“I’m not done with him yet.” Amelie objected, sounding as dispassionate as usual.

“This is important, Amelie- I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

Amelie nodded, a curt notion. “You had better pick a good wine.” 

“Of course.” Angela turned her attention back to Gabriel. “Gabriel, could you come with me to the mansion, please?” 

“Do I have a choice?” Gabriel asked, flicking sweat off his brow. 

“Of course. It’ll just be a couple of minutes-” 

“We were just finishing anyway.” Amelie interjected. “No point in bringing him back until his next session.” 

Angela nodded, instructing Gabriel to follow her with a simple flick of her fingers. He followed like an obedient duckling, curiosity nibbling at him and melting away his frustration with Amelie. 

“What’s this about?” 

“Jack came to talk to me.” 

Worry lurched Gabriel’s stomach. “Is he okay?” 

She glanced back at him, surprised. “Yes, why wouldn’t he be?” 

“I just-” He couldn’t think of a justifiable cover up, so he just shrugged a little bit. “Nothing. If Jack’s not hurt, what is this about?” 

“He wanted to talk to me about you, Gabriel.” 

“What did he say?” Gabriel had to temper his voice, attempting to pin back any note of pining or excitement that might’ve been present. 

“He said you haven’t been sleeping well- He’s noticed other troubling symptoms as well.” 

“Troubling symptoms?” Gabriel echoed, caught off guard. 

“Staring into space. Bouts of silence. Distraction. He says sometimes you seem almost distant- melancholic. He’s confessed to me that he sent a golem to watch you-” 

“He did  _ what?”  _

“- And the golem told me that your sleep is restless. Disturbed. It’s not nightmares- Reapers don’t dream, I know that very well. Laying still and breathing hard, curling up under the mattress. The golems that I sent to change your sheets reported a few smears of blood-” 

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s not fine. Were your parents ever prone to depression?” 

“I didn’t spend enough time with them to know.” Gabriel replied, voice slightly guarded. “Listen, I can’t tell you what this is about.” 

“So there  _ is  _ a problem?” 

“Zenyatta said I couldn’t discuss it.” Gabriel glanced at her. “He and I had a talk-” 

“Does this have anything to do with how you went missing after training a few days ago? Amelie waited for you for ten minutes, then got bored and walked away. She didn’t bother to tell me that you’d gone until I asked a few hours later.” 

“It does.” Gabriel admitted hesitantly, unsure of how much to say.

“Does this have anything to do with the guest I’m positive Zenyatta has been harboring in his room?” 

“Yeah.” 

A slight exhale. “You know you can  _ tell  _ me things, Gabriel.” 

“Zenyatta showed me the future.” He relinquished. 

Her eyes widened slightly. “Have you told anyone else?” 

“No one but Zenyatta.” A slight, diplomatic dip of Gabriel’s head. 

“Don’t tell anyone else. I know you and Jack are close, but don’t tell him either. Future-seeing is dangerous-” 

“Zenyatta told me.” Gabriel replied glumly. 

“You should’ve said no when he offered it to you.” 

“If I  _ knew  _ what I was going to see, I would’ve-” No, that was a lie. He would still have asked to see. Even though it felt almost voyeuristic, he had got to see himself happy with Jack. They were engaged, ready to be married-

Gabriel broke off, glancing down at the ground. Angela seemed sympathetic to that silence, looking away and rubbing her upper arm almost self-consciously. 

“Tonight, I want you to come by my room- I can give you sleeping pills. Something strong enough to keep you under for a good night’s sleep. After all, tomorrow is Christmas-” 

“Tomorrow is  _ Christmas?”  _ Gabriel sputtered, the news hitting him like a kick in the teeth. “How long have I  _ been here?”  _

“Well-” 

“Wait a second, it’s Christmas Eve?!” 

“Yes- You’ve been here since the eighteenth, Gabriel, you haven’t even been with us a week yet. In fact, on Christmas, it’ll be your seventh day being the Reaper.” 

“It feels like a lot more.” Gabriel mumbled. 

“It’ll get easier,” Angela assured. 

“Hope so.” 

“You know…” Angela began carefully. Gabriel glanced at her- her tone suggested she had something important to say but didn’t want to say it too soon, or was weighing her words carefully. 

“I feel like we’ve possibly been pushing you too hard in the past couple of days… Most Reapers already know what I’m trying to teach you, and have claws or fangs or wings in addition to Reaper abilities, so this is more grueling than it would be.” 

“What’s your point?” Gabriel asked cautiously. She stopped walking, and he did as well. She turned to face him, one hand loosely placed on her hip. 

“How about this, Gabriel- You get Christmas off. You and Jack can go wherever you want, we’re not going to stop you and you don’t need our supervision.” There was a moment of hesitation. “Come back before midnight,  _ please.”  _

Gabriel could feel his heart quiver a little bit- A wiggle of happiness that was probably pathetic, but Gabriel didn’t care. 

“Thank you,” was all he could think to say.

“The day after Christmas I’m going to give you a test on what I’ve been teaching you.” Angela folded her arms, looking as though she just regretted the slight bit of leniency she’d showed Gabriel. No- not regretted it, just wasn’t sure if it was too nice or not enough of a reward. “Just so you know- I’m sure Jack will help you study.” 

“You know about that?” Gabriel asked. 

“He’s been telling me about areas you’re having trouble in.” 

“Evil bastard. It’s  _ his  _ fault you drilled me about the difference between wyverns and slyzards this morning.” Gabriel shook his head incredulously.

“It’s to help your education,” Her voice came off as slightly chiding. He folded his arms. “Now, I’m going to talk to Amelie and see if you can get the rest of the day off. I expect you’ll want to plan something with Jack in the mean time- Just please remember to come by tonight and get some sleeping pills. Don’t want you crabby on Christmas, after all.” 

Gabriel got the distinct sense that Angela had really grown to adopt her new maternal role, and she seriously enjoyed it. She looked like she was almost excited to be treating him like her teenage son, even though he was pretty sure he was at least a half decade older than her. She certainly fit the pretty white suburban mother in appearance. 

Gabriel headed into the mansion, stumping up the stairs and towards Jack’s room. Angela hovered at the front door for a moment, watching Gabriel ascend, then went back outside. Gabriel assumed she was going to smooth things over with Amelie to give him the rest of the day off. 

His mind turned elsewhere- off of Angela, off of Jack’s tattling, to another subject. 

Christmas Eve, huh. 

Liao had already gone Christmas shopping for Gabriel- she had said so, almost a week ago. He wondered what she had bought him. 

He wondered, if he hadn’t woken up on the hillside, what he would’ve gotten her. He wondered what he would get any of his new friends for Christmas. Something that exploded for Jamison. New tea or a plant for Ana. She was an alchemist, so maybe some Reaper bodily fluids, too? 

Well. Gabriel wouldn’t want to get anyone’s spit or blood in the mail, no matter how valuable it was. 

Hanzo was a hard buy. He had no idea what the vampire would want.

_ It’s not like they’re getting you presents or you could get them anything, Gabriel.  _ He thought to himself irritably.  _ Don’t think about it. _

He nearly ran into Jack, who was just leaving his room. “Oh! Gabe, you’re done early?” 

“Yeah, I need to talk to you for a sec.” 

“What about?” 

“Angela says I can leave during Christmas.” 

“You can leave anytime you want.” Jack reminded him gently. 

“No, no- Listen, I meant we could leave  _ together.”  _

Jack tilted his head, as if he didn’t understand- sudden comprehension dawned in his eyes. “Hold on- Tomorrow’s Christmas!” 

Gabriel snorted. “Just figure that out?” 

“No, you don’t-- Gabe, I promised to go to see my parents this Christmas.” Jack bit the inside of his cheek nervously. 

“Well-” Gabriel wasn’t famed for spontaneity, but he didn’t think before he blurted: “I’ll go with you.” 

Jack’s brows almost leapt off his face in surprise. “You will? I mean-” 

“I’m sure I can handle it.” Sudden excited, nervous flutters shredded his stomach to ribbons. “I can teleport us there-” 

“Both of us?” Jack said, sounding slightly skeptic.

“There’s no way we can book a plane to Indiana right now, and good luck traveling on foot there in a day.” Gabriel was beginning to calm his rapidly beating heart as he rationalized his new plan. “I can take us.” 

“Do you have a handle on teleportation yet?” 

“No, but I’ve never teleported anywhere dangerous before…” 

A hundred feet underwater in the middle of the ocean could’ve been considered dangerous, Gabriel guessed, but that was only  _ once  _ and he’d teleported safely over a half dozen times. 

“Are you sure you could get there?” Jack checked. 

“I’ve been there before.” Gabriel assured him. “I know how.” 

“Well-” Jack seemed to think it over. “My parents are a bit-”

“I can handle it, Jack. Suburban white parents? I’ve seen tons of movies, I know what I’m in for.” 

“Gabe, they’re also griffins.” Jack sounded like he was arguing just for the sake of it, which was unusual. 

“Does that  _ mean  _ anything?” 

“They could be dangerous…” 

“No good Christmas dinner ends without a fight.” Gabriel shrugged.

Jack blinked, surprised. “Did yours often-?” 

“Punched my dad in the face once.” 

“What did he say?” 

“Called me a pig for being a cop. I wasn’t invited to any more Christmas dinners after that. But doesn’t really matter.” 

“If you’re going to punch my father in the face, you’re not invited.” Jack said, frowning.

“I’ll be on my best behavior, Jack.” Gabriel offered him a toothy smile.

“Sure you will.” He shook his head, a good-natured smile on his face. “I’m going to go get lunch, Gabriel. I need to figure out how to tell my parents I’m friends with the Reaper.” 

A golem lumbered by, head adorned with a cute santa hat. It chirped what sounded suspiciously like a snippet from “Jingle Bells” as it passed. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Gabriel said. 

“Here’s hoping.” A smile from Jack as he headed down the stairs. 

Gabriel turned back to his room, wondering what he had just enthusiastically signed up for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WOULD LIKE TO AGGRESSIVELY APOLOGIZE FOR THE LATENESS OF THIS CHAPTER!! Particularly since it was an unannounced hiatus! 
> 
> There's a combination of things, but most of it boils down to the fact that I have 85 hours on Witcher 3 and I got it only a week ago, so I've been very busy aggressively playing Witcher over the break
> 
> now that school has kicked off again, I can get back to work! ( which might sound weird but I write almost literally everything at school )
> 
> Fun fact: this chapter went through four different rewrites, which also accounts for its lateness. the longest rewrite can be found on my blog- link to be provided soon! 
> 
> fun fact 2: this chapter- chapter 31- took the longest to write out of any of the chapters, clocking in at 11 days! 
> 
> fun fact 3: this chapter was called "The Real Slim Chapter 31", referring to the original Chapter 31, which was titled "skip" and was about Sombra taking Jack and Gabriel to the mall instead of Jack and Gabriel going to Jack's parent's home for Christmas
> 
> final notes: if you want chapter updates and little bits of extra content, https://legendary-bard.tumblr.com is the place to go!


	32. Jumping Mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel & co have dinner ( again ) and Gabriel helps Zenyatta and Genji back where they belong.

Dinner was charged with excited, impatient energy. Gabriel could do with a break from the mansion, and spending it with Jack wouldn’t be that terrible either. While forking down butter-soaked snap beans he momentarily entertained the idea of Jack’s parents stringing up mistletoe, and he and Jack accidentally heading under the same doorway…

“Gabriel, are you feeling alright?” Angela, always conscious of Gabriel’s health, picked up on his hot, flustered quiet faster than everyone else. 

“Yeah, just thinking.” He gulped down an uncomfortable amount of beans, having not realized he’d been mindlessly shoving them in his mouth without swallowing.

“About what?” She asked. Gabriel assessed it as polite interest. 

“Jack and I are going to his parent’s house for Christmas.” 

“Is that so?” Angela glanced at Jack, who looked up from the seed-filled breadrolls he’d been eyeing. 

“Yeah.”

“Make sure he’s ready for the test he has the day after tomorrow, Jack.” 

“We’ll study tonight,” Jack assured her. “He’ll be ready.” 

“Good. I can point out some areas where he needs improvement-” 

“Wyverns have horns, slyzards don’t. Slyzards are blind and eyeless, wyverns aren’t, slyzards only come in shades of white, grey, and yellow, wyverns can be any color.” Gabriel rattled off. 

“Oh, you were listening.” Angela’s smile was appreciative. “What about giants versus ogres?” 

“Uh…” 

Angela clicked her tongue. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Ogres are more deformed, and are smaller than giants. Giants are typically nomadic, with herds of animals, but ogres have a single territory that they vigorously defend. Ogres also eat men, but giants don’t.” Jack provided. 

“Thanks.” Gabriel chewed his beans with a shade of ire. The butter and bacon that soaked each one somewhat soothed his annoyance at being quizzed at the dinner table. 

Zenyatta had been unusually quiet so far, so Gabriel glanced over at him. He sat on Gabriel’s right, making Gabriel wedged between Jack and Zenyatta, with Amelie and Angela directly across from him.

The djinni ate in a generally strange way- something about the way djinn jaws were formed made it difficult to properly chew. Zenyatta swallowed food whole- how he managed to avoid choking, Gabriel didn’t know. After watching Zenyatta eat for the first time, Gabriel wondered if eating was painful, but he never had the stones to ask the djinni directly. 

“I am also going to be leaving. I’ve been here for a few months, and there’s no point in staying here any longer. I long to see my brother again, and my case won’t be decided soon enough to justify intruding on your hospitality any longer.” Zenyatta had evidently noticed Gabriel’s curious gaze on him. “I would appreciate your help bringing me back to the monastery, Reaper, but I understand if you would like to decline.” 

“His help?” Angela echoed.

“He can teleport at least two people at a time.” Zenyatta gave a tiny nod. “Along with that, the guest I have been concealing in my room is Genji Shimada-” 

“Genji? Genji is here?” Angela’s voice grew sharper, maybe a shred afraid. 

“Yes, but I trust he will be accompanying me to the Shambali monastery. I sent a letter to Genji’s brother explaining his choice to go with m-” 

“How did he get here?” Amelie, who had thus far been quiet, pitched in. Her golden eyes were sharp with some unidentifiable emotion, probably fury.

“The Reaper brought him. On accident, as I understand, but it proves that he can take himself and someone else when he teleports. An interesting and rare power for a Reaper to have.” Zenyatta dipped his head, looking oddly diplomatic. “Genji and I have also concluded that… The relationship we’ve chosen to pursue would not fit well with so many people nearby.” 

Zenyatta looked at his plate a little too quickly, the motion entirely awkward.

“I can take you to Mondatta’s, but probably one at a time.” Gabriel tried to not let his uncertainty show. “Probably best we do this after dinner.” 

“Are you sure about this?” Jack cautioned Zenyatta.

“I have absolute faith in the new Reaper and his abilities.” Zenyatta replied. “He has proven to be powerful and adapts quickly, both excellent traits for the Reaper and his powers.” 

“If only he were so adept at combat.” Amelie grumbled. “Or following my instructions.” 

“Or listening to me.” Angela sighed. 

Gabriel could feel his ears burn defensively. “It’s not my fault the Reaper chose a human.” 

“That is correct- and despite what you were born as, you have made great strides.” Zenyatta purposely raised his voice. “Most Reapers are not expected to do their duties for a month or two after they take up the Mantle. You are still a while from that mark, but the only thing you are lacking is knowledge of the supernatural world and supernatural combat. That will come, in time. For now, your control of your powers is excellent and the rest will follow under your assistants’ careful tutelage.” 

That silenced both Amelie and Angela, who demurely returned to their food. 

“Thanks.” Gabriel said in the abashed lull. 

“No need. I have absolute confidence in you.” 

Gabriel swallowed a mouthful of hot bread. “Is Genji ready?” 

“He claims that he has fallen off the path he wished to pursue. He believes going to the Shambali monastery will make great strides in reforming his behavior. Being alone with me is his ulterior motive, although he thinks I don’t know it.” A short, brooding silence, and Zenyatta spooned the soft mush of applesauce into his mouth, seeming to think about what he would say. “He loves me very much. The time he’ll spend with me and my family, away from strangers, will be good for him.” 

Gabriel shot him a wary look. Zenyatta hadn’t used the word  _ family  _ on accident. 

Zenyatta caught his glance for a moment, a slight smile quirking his mouth. It had gone before Gabriel could call him out on it, and the djinni continued eating without another word.

Why did he get the feeling the djinni was watching his future self at this very moment? 

Every word Zenyatta had applied to Genji and the Shambali monastery could apply to Gabriel and Jack’s parent’s house. It fit too perfectly.

_ What do you know that I don’t?  _

Gabriel wondered if he was being self-centered in thinking that Zenyatta was purposely giving him practice teleporting and offering advice to steer them towards the first future he’d seen. 

_ He loves me very much,  _ Zenyatta had said. 

“Do you love Genji?” Gabriel asked abruptly. He could play this cagey game too. 

A slight quirk of a smile from Zenyatta- pleased that Gabriel had caught on. “You’d need to ask.” 

“I did.” 

“I’m not the one you should be asking, am I?” Zenyatta murmured. 

“What’re you two talking about?” Jack asked, blindingly obtuse as always. 

“Nothing that need worry you.” Zenyatta replied diplomatically. “I will gather my things and Genji. We will await you, Reaper.” 

“I’ll be here on the lawn if you’re ready.” 

Angela abruptly stood, pushing her chair in. “I need to say goodbye.” 

She hurried out, leaving her food unfinished. Amelie regarded it with a shade of uncertainty, glancing from Angela’s plate to her retreating back.

“What was that about?” Gabriel asked the remaining harpy. 

“I don’t know.” Amelie sounded mystified, which was a change from the usual. 

Gabriel glanced at Jack and Zenyatta, who looked like they didn’t know any more than Amelie did.

“Should I-” Gabriel half-way rose from his seat, but Jack grabbed a fistful of his shirt and gingerly pulled him back down. 

“If you hear anything, we can interrupt. If I remember anything from Overwatch, it was that Angela was always…” Jack frowned, thinking of a word. “Determined. Finish your dinner.” 

“Yes,  _ dad.”  _ Gabriel made a slight, disgusted noise. 

“That’s Mr. Dad to you.” Jack playfully poked in Gabriel’s direction with his fork. Gabriel picked his up off his plate and prodded the air warningly, ready to go for an all-out fork swordfight. 

“Could you two stop behaving like children?” Amelie interrupted, unamused by their antics. 

Jack put down his fork, Gabriel reluctantly following suit. The waiter golems ambled by, clearing away empty plates.

The chandelier overhead glowed a muted, dirty yellow. Gabriel glared at it as he stood up and it rippled with flecks of red that seemed almost abashed. 

He headed out into the lawn, taking the old Reaper coat that he’d started to think of as his. Jack went to his room- not to pack, since he didn’t have anything- and Gabriel paused in the doorway to watch him go.

_ You’re pathetic,  _ Gabriel scoffed at himself. But he watched Jack leave all the same. 

He headed out into the lawn, sitting down in the grass and minding the tassels and tail of the coat. All the dangly bits made it a lot more uncomfortable to wear than his poor old hoodie. 

( Well, his original poor old hoodie had been covered in harpy blood and had to be thrown out, and according to Angela the one Hanzo bought him had been given to a golem to wash then never seen again. )

He didn’t have to wait long. He heard the soft rustle of footprints in the grass- he looked up to see a stony-faced Genji and Zenyatta heading towards him. They stopped a few feet away. 

“Genji has something he would like to say to you.” Zenyatta chimed. The vampire looked like a cross between blindingly enraged and deathly embarrassed. Zenyatta placed a comforting hand on Genji’s waist and urged him to speak with a gentle, “Go on.” 

“Ah… Gabriel… I’m sorry.” Genji mumbled, not meeting Gabriel’s eye. If this apology had come immediately after getting bitten, Gabriel would’ve been angered by how pathetic and forced it was, but as it stood, he was more amused than anything else. 

“Apology accepted.” Gabriel shrugged slightly. Genji looked at him in surprise, and Gabriel gave him a  _ what-can-you-do  _ kind of look. 

“I am going first,” Genji declared, with all the nervousness and sense of impending doom of a cat in a carrier.

“Genji, that is noble, but I have full confidence in the Reaper.” Zenyatta gave Genji a fond pat on the hip. 

“Just in case, master.” Worry faintly shadowed Genji’s expression, but he swept it away with a shake of his head. “I will go first. If anything goes wrong, I am far less fragile…” 

Gabriel raised a shadowy tendril off the ground, coiling it cautiously around Genji’s waist. Zenyatta stepped away, which did nothing to alleviate the cracks of worry on the vampire’s face.

“Relax. This’ll go fine.” Gabriel told Genji, trying to convince himself as well. He suppressed the flecks of anxiety wriggling around and attempted to tentatively dig around in his body and brain for the Reaper’s help. 

That was another thing- Gabriel had the Reaper’s powers, kind of, but only when the Reaper helped him out did he have the full extent. He had been working, in the past couple of days, to draw on the Reaper’s full strength and control without being in a life-threatening or soul-devouring situation. He could do it maybe thirty, twenty, percent of the time with success. 

Gabriel breathed out gently. The Reaper had decided to help him out this time, which was nice. 

Inhuman grace, strength, speed- Sharpened senses. The coil of shadow around Genji’s waist thickened, grew darker,  _ stronger.  _ Smoke started to boil off of his skin like steam off a pot. 

He’d give it a fifty fifty chance that he would end up near the monastery. 

“Ready?” He asked Genji. 

A short nod.

There was a thunderous roar in Gabriel’s ears- a rushing train, a waterfall, an impossibly loud sound that betrayed danger closeby. A weightlessness that suddenly crashed down- His eyes were built before the rest of him, and he watched his body take on shape again. Genji looked a little wary and shellshocked, but other than that, he seemed normal…

The biting cold of the Nepali mountains in winter suddenly slapped Gabriel in the face, and he hunched over on himself to hide from the biting chill and the wind. Genji seemed unaffected. 

“There’s the monastery.” Genji pointed- there was a warm glow a ways off, orange brick that clashed with the snow. It looked to be somewhere near midmorning or afternoon- the sky was a bright, vivid blue, not a cloud in sight. Bright and cold- staring directly at the snow was almost blinding in this light. Now that it was daytime and not the middle of night, Gabriel got a full look at just how  _ beautiful  _ the place was. Mountains in the distance ( Mount Everest was around here somewhere, right? ) and several thousand foot plunge if he decided to jump off the rim of the cliff they were on. Maybe he shouldn’t stay here that long. 

“I’ll go get Zenyatta.” Gabriel’s teeth were starting to chatter. “You don’t need me to walk you over there, do you?” 

“No,” Genji muttered. “Bring him safely.” 

“I’ll try not to bump into any mountains when I make physics my bitch.” Gabriel fought a shiver. 

Genji let out an ungainly snort of laughter, quickly trying to cover it up as a cough. “Do that, then.” 

Praying that the Reaper wouldn’t decide to shit out on him, Gabriel teleported away. 

When he reappeared, he was in the middle of a jungle. The moist, humid heat was a stark contrast to the chill, and his frozen fingers burned pitifully in the sudden shift. Tons of trees, tons of leaves- Thin trees, clustered closely together and loosely roped by green vines or branches or other trees or what have you. Decidedly not a spruce and oak forest in California, though it was better than the middle of the ocean. 

“Dammit!” He shouted, making several birds fly away and something ( or somethings ) in the viny undergrowth skitter off. 

_ If I have to wrestle a panther, I’m going to scream.  _ Gabriel thought, exasperated. He concentrated again, making another leap. 

“Welcome back.” Zenyatta chimed warmly. Gabriel shook his head, not quite used to going from muggy heat to dry cold yet. Teleportation, too. 

“Genji’s at the monastery.” Gabriel reported.

“Ah, excellent. I take it I’m next?” 

“Yeah.” Gabriel coiled a tendril of shadow around Zenyatta’s waist. He took longer this time- steadily focusing on where he’d just left Genji. The memory was fresh in his mind- the chill of the mountainside hadn’t yet seeped out of his bones. It should be easy to get there. 

The roar and weightlessness returned, then the silence and the sharp jerk of gravity and mass back on his body. 

Gabriel crashed into the ground on his back, giving a sharp, painful wheeze, momentarily grateful he had managed to not smash his head into the ground. He looked up to see Zenyatta, who was far more composed.

“We’re here.” Zenyatta chimed, with the enthusiasm of a caroler about to sing on Christmas. He offered Gabriel his hand, pulling him up. He had gotten closer this time- they were a few feet away from the monastery’s massive doors. “I knew you could do it.” 

“Not without falling over, apparently.” Gabriel replied, somewhat disgruntled. He attempted to wipe the snow off his back with some success. At least the melting slush didn’t soak through the cloak- the previous owner had evidently looked ahead and made the outside waterproof. 

“There are the occasional hiccups.” Zenyatta amended. “Will you stay for tea? I suspect your sleeping troubles may be remedied with Angela’s medicine, but tea most certainly won’t hurt.” 

“You know about that, too?” Gabriel asked, slightly exasperated. “How many people did Jack tattle to?” 

“Only Angela. Sometime before dinner she came by to reprimand me for showing you the future.” An abashed lowering of his head. “Everything she said was correct. I apologize for it, once again.” 

“No need.” Gabriel tried to force the futures out of his mind. 

“I worry, nonetheless. But I will put it out of the way if you wish. Did I get an answer as to whether you’d like to stay for tea?” 

“Master!” Genji’s call of greeting came from nearby, and the vampire dashed forward to meet Zenyatta. “I am glad to see you arrived here safely!” 

“I told you to have faith.” Zenyatta smiled ever-so-slightly. 

“I think I’m going to go.” Gabriel told the djinni. “You look busy-” 

Genji threw himself into Zenyatta’s arms, planting a kiss on the corner of the djinni’s mouth.

“- Very busy.” Gabriel concluded to himself, giving the two a little space. Genji really thought that Zenyatta’d get lost or hurt, didn’t he?

Gabriel was willing to chalk that up to “scared for my lover” rather than “this Reaper is terrible and he can’t do anything right”, but it was probably a combination of both. 

The Reaper’s influence over his powers was starting to wane, so Gabriel figured it was probably a good time to get out of here. That liquid grace didn’t last very long when there wasn’t any fighting or soul-eating going on. 

Teleported into the middle of a sheep-laden field during sunset. Nope.

Teleported into a bustling city, managing to barely dodge getting run over by a bright yellow Taxi. He got yelled at in some tongue he didn’t recognize, probably curses.

Teleported onto the tracks of a rollercoaster at an amusement park, managing to just barely phase away before he got slammed into by a cart. 

Teleported and managed to avoid plunging into ocean by falling on the back of a boat. 

Teleported a final time and ended up in the room with Angela and Amelie, who were violently making out and completely na-

“Agh!” 

Angela was frozen, looking up at Gabriel with her lily white face burning to a shade close to crimson. Amelie threw a blanket over the both of them the split second she realized what was happening, then got out of bed, balling her fists and glaring at Gabriel.

She was shouting some abuse in what Gabriel assumed was French, her own face flushing pink at being peeped on.

Amelie was nude, not that Gabriel wanted to or had time to admire the view, and looked to be about ten seconds from slugging Gabriel in the face. 

Gabriel knew just how much her punches hurt and scampered out as swiftly as his legs would carry him. No thanks.

He slammed the door behind him and headed straight to his room, not bothering to look back. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear I only meant for this to be part of another chapter!! I didn't intend for Zenyatta or Genji to steal this chapter, but the pacing would be off if chapter 32 had everything else i wanted to put in it
> 
> addendum: did the lateness of the last chapter throw everybody off? where is everyone : (
> 
> fun fact: chapter title is a caravan palace reference


	33. Don We Now Our Gay Apparel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Gabriel enjoy Christmas at Jack's parents' house.

Gabriel woke up to something quietly nudging his shoulder. 

“Stop,” Gabriel insisted, curling up deeper under the covers. He had been enjoying a warm, dreamless sleep, and he’d be damned if anyone let him take this enjoyment from him before it was due. It stopped for a moment 

“Get up.” Jack’s voice, Gabriel realized muzzily. He poked his head out from under the covers, glaring at the griffin in a silent attempt to get him to go away.

“It’s already ten on the east coast.” 

“Fuckin’  _ kidding  _ me?” Gabriel shrank back under the covers. “It’s only, like, six here, fuck off!” 

“It’s seven.” Jack said patiently. 

“Way too early to wake up on Christmas!” Gabriel objected, muffled under the blanket. 

“But early enough that we arrive before noon at my parent’s house.” Jack reminded patiently. “Let’s go have breakfast, Gabe.” 

“Fine,” He shifted the blankets off himself, unenthusiastically crawling out of bed. Jack backed off and stood patiently by the door as Gabriel ambled over to the drawers.

The clothes that’d been left behind by former Reapers ranged from elaborate 1800-themed gowns to grungy late eighties band T-shirts to a hundred year old vest with a still-ticking pocket watch to tie-dye seventies T-shirts to half a dozen cotton tees full of early 2000s and late ‘90 memes. The one he was most impressed with was the Ceiling Cat one, which had been the only one of the multitude of clothes that looked to have never have been worn. 

“I dunno, Jack, which one do you think is the most Christmassy?” Gabriel studied an old Slayer t-shirt.

“Uh…” He drifted over, pawing through the drawer. “Do any of these even fit you?” 

“Maybe?” 

“My parents aren’t that formal,” Jack managed to dig up a decaying piece of cloth that looked as though it had, once upon a time, been a woolen sweater. “Damn.” 

“Maybe Angela has something?” Gabriel suggested. 

“In your size?” Jack looked skeptical. 

“Well, where’d you get your clothes?” 

“You know I don’t shapeshift naked, right?” 

Gabriel thought about that for a second. “Wait, does that mean you could make an infinite amount of shirts? You shapeshift to human, take off your shirt, turn into a griffin, shapeshift back, take off your shirt, over and over again until you have a pile of shirts?” 

“The shirt disappears with my transformation.” 

“Can you make any clothes you want?” 

“It’s not something I’ve ever thought about.” 

“That’s not something teenage Jack would’ve tried?” 

“Teenage Jack was busy doing something else-” Jack started, quickly amending when Gabriel started to laugh, “- Your imagination is  _ filthy!”  _

“Can’t help it, white bread, you’re a living set-up for a joke.” 

“Go ask Angela if she has any sweaters.” Jack ordered. “I’m going to go downstairs and get breakfast.” 

“Coffee and pancakes.” Gabriel prodded his shoulder.

“Not too many, we still have dinner to contend with…” 

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” Gabriel rolled his eyes and pulled on the Slayer t-shirt. It pinched a bit at the armpits and was maybe a little too short, but it’d be alright just to wear. He wondered if he shouldn’t get Mondatta’s robes, which were hanging somewhere in the bathroom. The Reaper cloak currently dumped on the floor by his bed was a no-go; he wanted to separate himself from any other Reapers as much as physically possible.

Looks like he’d have to bite the bullet and talk to Angela, or suffer wearing the hundred year old woolen sweater in his drawer until midnight.

Fuck no. Angela it was.

He accompanied Jack to the stairs, but they split up there- Gabriel heading to Angela’s room and Jack going downstairs to get Gabriel’s pancakes and daily shot of caffeine. 

Gabriel knocked. Yesterday had made him  _ incredibly  _ cautious about walking in on Angela, and he wanted to avoid a repeat event of blundering in on any…  _ compromising  _ activities. 

There was the fuzzy mumbling of two voices, indistinct through the door and due to seemingly just waking up. The pad of bare feet on the floor came about a minute later, and the door opened.

Amelie looked up at him as if she’d rather be punching him in the throat. 

At least she was clothed.

“Bad time?” Gabriel asked.

“What do you want?” Amelie grunted. 

“A sweater.” 

“Today is our day off. I don’t have to deal with you.” Amelie made to close the door, but Gabriel jammed his foot between the frame and the door before she could properly shut it.

“Let me talk to Angela,” Gabriel insisted. 

Amelie glared at him as though she would rather be punching him in the throat  _ and  _ the dick, but she left the door open and padded back into Angela’s room. The room’s owner was currently on her side, modestly draped by the blanket on her bed. Her back was facing them, her blond hair let down and splayed on the pillow. Gabriel couldn’t hear her breathing from this distance, but her flank gently rose and fell. 

“ _ Cheri,”  _ she cooed, stroking a hand down Angela’s hip. “Up,  _ ma choupette.”   _

“What does he want?” Angela murmured. 

“A sweater.” Amelie made a disgusted noise, as if asking for a sweater was the biggest inconvenience in the entire goddamn world. 

“Yeah…” Angela shifted. She pulled the covers off, and thankfully wasn’t nude this time, but she was just barely clothed in white underwear. 

( Her snail trail had a couple of feathers. Gabriel wondered if harpies would pluck instead of shave. )

She ambled over to one of her drawers, tossing Gabriel a dark red sweater. He caught it, splaying it over his front to judge how it would fit.

“This isn’t yours,” Gabriel didn’t even think to curb his tongue before he said. 

“Did the size tip you off?” Angela was working at tying up her hair back into her classic ponytail. Apparently she wasn’t tired enough for her sense of humor to quit her. 

“Whose is it?” Made for maybe a slightly smaller man than Gabriel, but it didn’t look so bad. 

“It’s been hemmed, you may want to cut the threads so it fits you better.” Angela combed her fingers through her hair, making a slight noise of pain when she ran into a tangle. 

“Whose is it?” Gabriel repeated. 

“Genji’s.” 

“Why do you have-” 

“Amelie, can you go downstairs?” Angela interrupted. “We’re going to need more wine. A bowl of fruit won’t go amiss, either.” 

Gabriel got the distinct sense Angela was kicking Amelie out on purpose, but he kept this observation to himself. Amelie didn’t argue when she left. 

“Genji is a very charming, charismatic person.” Angela began hesitantly. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” Gabriel folded his arms.

“While I was away from Amelie, I was… Lonely.” She hunched in on herself. “Genji was lonely, as well. I knew it very well, and I was hoping that… While we were there together…” 

Gabriel could guess where this was going.

She knew he could, too, because she sighed. “He was broken, Gabriel. I thought I could help. I offered one night, and…” 

“He turned you down.” Gabriel guessed.

She nodded. “Genji didn’t have any interest in women, and he claimed to be faithful to…” 

“Zenyatta.” Gabriel provided.

“It was awkward to have Zenyatta arrive when I had been trying to make a move on his student.” An embarrassed laugh. “It wasn’t that bad, as far as let-downs go. I did take the sweater Reinhardt knitted him, though. Just as a souvenir…” 

Gabriel wasn’t exactly sure what to say. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be. Go have fun at Jack’s Christmas party- Amelie and I are going to be busy all day, so if you come back, ask the golems if you need anything.” 

“Does Amelie know any of this?” 

“Of course.” 

“She doesn’t have a problem with it?”

“Our relationship is open. She knows I love her- it doesn’t bother her if I pursue anyone else, and I wouldn’t be bothered if she pursued someone other than me.” 

Angela shook her head slightly, clearing it of thoughts. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Gabriel?” 

“Right, right.”

Truth be told, he was just glad to escape the awkward conversation. He guessed it explained her behavior at dinner, if he’d known the answer he would’ve received he wouldn’t have asked. 

He stripped off the Slayer shirt. Reinhardt had overestimated Genji’s size by a good measure when knitting this sweater and the hemming was a rather shoddy job. After ripping some clumsy stitches, it proved to be a little big even on Gabriel, but he prefered oversized clothes to undersized clothes. 

Jack, bless his goddamn soul, was waiting with Gabriel’s pancakes and coffee. His stomach pitifully growled despite himself, and he sat down next to the griffin.

He probably should’ve said “hello” before he started scarfing down flapjacks and gulping down coffee, but civility ought to be abandoned when food was involved. 

When Gabriel paused to inhale, Jack gently cut in.

“Nice sweater.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Where’d you get it?”

“Angela loaned it to me.” 

“Huh. Amelie came down here ten minutes ago, looking very annoyed. She and a couple of golems took three bottles of white wine from the kitchen and what looked like every fruit in the house. Do you know anything about that?”

Gabriel whistled. “They really  _ do  _ have plans today.” 

“Plans…” Jack trailed off. “Oh,  _ those  _ kind. Could they not wait until we left? Then they’ll have the house to themselves. Honestly,  _ that  _ kind of marathon on Christmas is…”

“Don’t be stingy. Some people celebrate the holiday in different ways.” Even when drinking, Gabriel’s mug couldn’t hide his smile. 

“That’s  _ not  _ how God would want you to celebrate His son’s birth.” Jack folded his arms. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a religious stickler. I might have to take back our friendly bonding over marshmallows and mutual captivity.” Gabriel stuffed a chunk of pancake in his mouth.

“I’m not,” Jack folded his arms. “Are you almost ready?” 

“I’ve still got pancakes,” Gabriel indicated with his fork. 

“Other than that, are you ready?” 

“What’s got you so on edge?” 

“I want to get home before the rest of my family.” 

“Why?” 

“That way I don’t surprise everyone by kicking the door in and announcing the Reaper is a good friend of mine. It’ll be better if we’re early.” 

“Mama’s boy.” Gabriel murmured into his pancakes. Jack punched Gabriel in the shoulder, making an offended huff.  

Gabriel stuffed the last shred of pancake in his mouth and downed the rest of the coffee. “Alright, done. Give me your hand.” 

Gabriel held his out expectantly, and Jack looked just a shade suspicious. “Is this how you’re supposed to-” 

“Hold my stupid hand, Jack.” 

Jack held Gabriel’s stupid hand. 

_ Hey, Reaper, it’s Gabriel again.  _ Gabriel thought.  _ Wanna give me some help here?  _

The Reaper remained silent to his request. No power boost, none of that pinpoint accuracy and sense sharpening. 

Goodie. 

Alright. It had been a fifty fifty with Genji and Zenyatta and it’d worked without a hitch, right? 

This would just be, like, a five / ninety five percent chance of ending up at the real destination. This was alright. They’d be okay. 

A tendril of mist crept out from the back of his palm, twining around Jack’s wrist and holding fast.

“Here we go,” Gabriel forced himself to breathe in and smile. 

The rushing roar of teleportation, the slight chill. The weightlessness, the fluttering in a stomach he no longer had- 

He could still feel Jack’s hand, gripping tight to his own. The strength behind his fingers, the warmth of Jack’s palm, the  _ trust  _ the griffin displayed, made his guts shift in a way completely unrelated to teleportation.

It threw him off the mark. 

“Where the fuck are we?” Was the first thing Gabriel said as soon as he could speak. 

It looked to be about noon, or somewhere approaching it, judging by the position of the sun. So he was nearabouts Indiana, probably. At least probably on the border of Eastern Standard Time and Central Standard Time. 

The sun also told him he was in the north- or at the very least, he hadn’t launched them into an entirely different hemisphere. That was  _ acceptably  _ close, right? 

They were in a forest full of skeletal, leaveless trees, the ground spotted with shallow snowdrifts. To their left, a still-flowing stream, although it was sluggish. Nearby clusters of grass and the occasional spot of greenery that remained were gilded with frost, and Gabriel’s breath plumed visibly in the air. 

“Sorry, Jack-” Gabriel fumbled to say. 

“I know where we are,” Jack said abruptly. 

“You do?” Looks like Gabriel hadn’t fucked up too badly. 

“This is the forest outside my parent’s house. You see that river?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I remember it. Following it east’ll get us more or less there. It’s how Ma told me to get home in case I got lost in the forest.” Jack indicated the proper direction, assessing the direction from the slant of the sun. The two of them started moving, side by side. 

“Did you get lost often?” Gabriel asked, amused.

“When I was  _ really  _ young. When I got older I could follow my own scent trail or fly and find it from the air.” 

“Did your mother just let you run around the middle of the woods as a toddler?” 

“It builds character.” Jack puffed his chest a little bit. 

“You’re lucky you weren’t eaten by a bear or something.” 

“There aren’t any bears in Indiana. We have bobcats and coyotes, neither of which are dangerous to a griffin.” 

“Supposing we found a bear right now, could you win if you fought it?” Gabriel asked.

Jack thought about that for a moment. “Yeah. Maybe not if it was a werebear, but normal bears aren’t really that smart. I have the advantage of flight, too.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence, containing only the crunch of snow, pebbles on the riverbed, and frosted grass. 

“Do you have any siblings?” 

“No, I’m an only child. I have a lot of cousins and aunts and uncles, though. One of my great grandmothers should be coming today, too. She’ll be celebrating her two hundred and twelfth birthday in April.” 

Gabriel tried to do the math on when she would’ve been born. Early eighteen hundreds, that’s all he could figure. 

“You’re not going to make me go to that, are you?” 

“ _ I’m  _ not the one who volunteered to come here.” Jack shot Gabriel a look. 

“That was for your benefit. There was no way Angela was going to let you run off by yourself, even if it was Christmas.” 

“Thank you.” Jack smiled an infuriating little smile and Gabriel had to calm an impatient voice screaming at him to just  _ kiss  _ the stupid fool. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Gabriel jammed his hands in his jean pockets. “Are there going to be any children at this thing?” 

“Some of my cousins have kids. Is that a problem?” 

“No. Any of them like cops?” 

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen them since last Christmas.” 

Gabriel grunted. “Was thinking I might be able to share some cop stories. It’s been awhile since I’ve talked to a bunch of kids.” 

He and a few other officers occasionally visited kindergartens and elementary schools. Liao told him it was good for their image. 

“I think they’ll ask about you being the Reaper more than you being an officer.” Jack tried to let Gabriel down gently, bless him. 

“Ugh. I’d prefer talking about chasing flashers in the middle of Grand Park than talking about teleporting mishaps.” 

“You need to be patient with the kids.” Jack encouraged, voice mild.

“Trust me, I know. Liao coached me on how to handle kids once. Occasionally they say the weirdest shit, Jack. You get stuff like ‘how do you become an officer’ or ‘do you shoot bad guys’, but then you get the weird kid in the back who stares you in the eye and says his mom thinks cops are pigs, then makes oinking noises.” 

“Did that actually happen?” 

“Yeah. The teacher called him out on it, though. Don’t remember what his punishment was.” Gabriel shrugged slightly. “You were a military leader, right? Kiss any babies or talk to any kids?” 

“Never had time. Busy planning missions and trying to keep things in check back on the base.” 

“Bet  _ you  _ were popular.” 

“You joke, but I was,” Jack said, a faint note of pride entering his voice. “I was one of the most respected leaders in Overwatch’s history.” 

“And what do you think of your successor?” 

“She wasn’t popular, but she was effective. There was a reason nobody challenged her when she stepped up.” 

A ponderous noise from Gabriel. “Hmm.” 

“Anyway. Old history. We’re almost home.” 

“Good. Even with the sweater, it’s fucking  _ cold  _ out here.” 

“Good old Indiana weather.” Jack’s voice was tempered with something akin to pride. “Goes anywhere from ten degrees to fifty in winter.” 

“At least California is goddamn consistent,” Gabriel muttered.

“That’s why I usually spend winter in California.” Jack said. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I hibernate there.” 

“Do you actually hibernate?” 

“Uhm, well, no. But it’s warm.”

They came upon a clearing- A flat plane of snow-cleared earth. Gabriel suspected that during summer there were crops grown here, but during winter, the land was as dead as anything else nearby. 

The wooden house Gabriel had seen the last time he was here was off in the distance. A five minute walk at a brisk pace, maybe. 

“Do you come here in summer to farm?” Gabriel asked, watching the slight divots in the earth as he plodded towards the home. He was, admittedly, fucking stupid when it came to knowing shit about farming. Oxen pulled plows to make these kind of little rows, right? Probably used machines instead of oxen now, actually. 

“Yes.” 

“Is it hard?” 

“Yes,” Jack admitted. “But we don’t need oxen or equipment, since a single griffin is strong enough to pull a plow.” 

So Gabriel was right about the rows, but not about what made them. That was a point for him in his book. 

Jack cut into his thoughts with a nervous-sounding cough. “Listen, Gabriel- I want you to wait on the porch while I go in first.” 

Gabriel cocked his head, nonverbally requesting an explanation.

“I told you, they’re somewhat traditionalists. Coming home with a man isn’t exactly going to be appreciated-” 

“We’re just friends!” Gabriel objected.

“- But you being the Reaper makes it a lot worse. I’ll do gentle introductions before they meet you.” 

Gabriel wanted to argue, but distinctly sensed that would only upset Jack. He kept his tongue in check and simply nodded. 

They reached the porch- Gabriel headed towards the railing, taking a disgruntled seat on top of it. Jack knocked, a loud and sharp rhythm.

There was a bluster of inaudible speech from inside- Gabriel looked up, although it weren’t as if he could see inside, and the door flew open.

“Hey, Ma!” Jack said cheerfully. 

“Oh, Jackie, it’s good to see you! You didn’t write home to let us know you were coming-” A woman’s voice jabbered from inside the house, and for some reason Gabriel had to stop himself from snickering. Something about this whole situation struck him as incredibly ridiculous, but Gabriel attempted to keep composed and not give himself away for Jack’s sake.

“Yeah, Ma, I’ve been tied up for the past week-”

Oh, that  _ better  _ have not been on purpose. 

Gabriel stuffed his knuckles in his mouth to stop from giggling. If Jack noticed, he didn’t so much as look in Gabriel’s direction. 

“Come in, come in! Don’t be a stranger, Jackie!” 

“Hold on, Ma- I brought someone with me.” 

“Oh, where is she? I’d love to meet her! Is it that Lena girl?” 

“No, no- It’s a man, Ma-” 

“A  _ man?  _ Oh, Jackie…” 

“He’s here as a  _ friend,  _ Ma.” 

“Jackie, you know I’m open-minded about this kind of thing, you don’t have to-” 

“He’s a  _ friend.”  _ Jack emphasized. 

“Well, bring him inside. Your father got a good fire going, and it’s cold out!”

“I know, Ma…” A pattering of footsteps that could only be Jack’s mother heading deeper into the house. Gabriel took this as his cue to get closer, arching a silent eyebrow at the griffin. 

“Shut up,” Jack hissed between his teeth.

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You didn’t need to. Let me do all the talking.” 

“Can do, white bread.”

“Please don’t call me that in front of my parents.”

“Your parents aren’t here right now,” Gabriel pointed out. 

“In the future,” Jack amended hurriedly. “Don’t call me that in front of my parents when we’re in front of them.” 

It was the urgency of his whispering that made Gabriel drop the smart guy attitude. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so  _ stressed  _ before, _ Jackie. _ ”

“Shut up.” Jack muttered nervously. 

“Relax. It’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go inside.” 

Jack went first, crossing the threshold with a moment of deliberation. 

Gabriel stepped in after him, actually kind of interested in seeing where Jack grew up. 

First thing was first. Gabriel pulled open his Sight to get a good idea of what he’d have to be dealing with. 

A small, quivering little presence somewhere nearby- In fact, so close that the cat the presence belonged to was winding around his ankles. 

“Something about griffins having a pet cat feels wrong,” Gabriel bent, allowing the slender little feline to sniff his hand. It gave him a crazed, wide-eyed look, its jaws slightly parted, then sat down and started bathing one of its paws. Gabriel couldn’t feel anything  _ off  _ about it- A slight greyness, but cloaked in fur and whiskers. 

“That’s Molly.” Jack told him. “It’s a long story. Pa’ll tell you if you ask him- but she’s not a cat. At least, she wasn’t always.”

“Well, now I’m curious.” Gabriel looked away from the cat, deeper into the house. Hmm… Two more presences. 

One upstairs, the other downstairs. 

“It’s kind of a strange circumstance. I think I’ll tell you later.” Jack rubbed his upper arm. “She wants to be here, though. She’s not a pet.” 

“If you say so,” was all Gabriel could really reply with. “Hmm. There’s only two people here. Not counting the cat.”

“How do you-” 

“Oh, right. Guess you weren’t there for it, but I’ve got the Sight.” 

“You do?” Jack blinked. “I’ve only met a handful of mortals who had it…” 

“I’m guessing you don’t meet many mortals, Jack.” Gabriel gave a brusque sort of shrug. “Hold on a second.” 

Downstairs was closer. He zeroed in on it- A warmth that was either a bright hug or the glow of a flame on a hearth. Something matronly, a softness Gabriel associated with grandmothers,but interlaced with iron. It brought to mind images of handmade quilts knitted with steel cables instead of yarn. A warm, distinct smell that was a mix of cinnamon and something that Gabriel thought might be wet fur. Something sweet and creamy that Gabriel thought might be milk, that he could taste on his tongue. The hot sun in a blue sky, a sweeping scythe over an endless field of golden grain that almost jolted Gabriel clean out of his Sight. Underneath the exterior, an amalgamation of white-tipped feathers and greying fur. 

Jack’s mother? Had to be. 

Upstairs, then.

The metallic tang of metal, in his nose and his mouth. A spray of sparks and coal dust cloying in his lungs. The  _ thunk  _ of an axe in a tree, the worrying creaking and cracking as ice froze in their trunks. Calloused hands, unlaced working boots and gardening gloves. Age and wisdom in equal measure, correlated. Some shreds that forcibly reminded Gabriel of Jack- sunshine, feathers and fur,  _ strength.  _ A hunting rifle, the scent of gunpowder, the forcible  _ crack  _ of a shot being fired. Impatience, intolerance, the furious entitlement of a mother bear with its cubs. A sour taste that was comparable to licking oil off of a greasy pan. 

Jack must’ve read his expression. “What is it?”

“Your father doesn’t have an axe, does he?”

“Only for firewood, why?”

“No reason.” Gabriel paced deeper into the house. 

Dominating the room was a pile of  _ gold. _ Goblets, necklaces, rings, coins, ingots, candleholders, dishes, bottles full of flakes of gold. One such bottle was marked  _ Rush, 1849,  _ and Gabriel wondered if Jack’s father had been a gold panner in California forever ago. There were chunks of gold as big as Gabriel’s fist just  _ sitting there.  _

The pile, at its apex, was nearly as tall as Gabriel, and was spread comfortably in a seven by seven foot space. Gabriel couldn’t even  _ begin  _ to comprehend how much money all this was worth. It looked to be hundreds of pounds of gold, possibly  _ thousands.  _ Gabriel wasn’t even counting the rings and necklaces that were set with precious stones- just the gold by itself had to be worth over ten million, possibly twenty million dollars.

“Jesus Christ,” Gabriel breathed out.

“Don’t touch it!” Jack cautioned immediately, one hand flying to Gabriel’s arm before he could reach out. “Gabriel, don’t touch- That’s my parents’ hoard.” 

“Their what?”

“I know Angela hasn’t taught you about griffins yet, but I told you before, griffins are hoarders. We really-  _ really-  _ do  _ not  _ like strangers  _ stealing  _ from our hoard.” Jack sounded strained. “The kind of  _ don’t like  _ that ends up making people lose limbs or lives.” 

Gabriel took a step away from Jack’s parents’ hoard. 

“Sorry.” Jack rubbed the nape of his neck. “Tracer did the same thing, except I didn’t stop her. Pa almost took her arm off…”

“Nah, it’s alright.” Gabriel offered up a smile, efficiently shoving away a momentary pang of queasy fear. “Hey, wait- I took a gun from  _ your _ hoard, remember?” 

Jack made a face. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Why didn’t you, you know…”

“I have more patience than Pa.” Jack folded his arms. “I  _ was  _ hoping to get it back, though.”

“Well, I’d give it back, but Liao probably ended up with it. There was nothing on the books about when I got arrested, so I doubt they’d have actually treated it like evidence.” 

“That’s alright. I wasn’t  _ that  _ attached to my hoard. Not as much as some griffins.” 

Jack’s mother called from inside the kitchen: “Jackie, I can hear you and your friend talking in there, why don’t you come in and introduce me?” 

Jack nudged Gabriel with his elbow, lowering his voice to a whisper: “Your  _ best  _ behavior, Gabe.” 

“Do my best.” He murmured back. Jack took the initiative and headed into the kitchen first, leaving Gabriel to tail behind him yet again.

Jack’s mother was a stout woman, in her late sixties or early to mid seventies. She was chubby, in an endearing and matronly way, and wore a woolen Christmas sweater stamped with a green christmas tree on a red and white background. She was wearing slippers, her white hair tucked behind her ears. Gabriel wondered, for the first time, if this particular family of griffins was just born with white hair. That would explain how early fifties Jack was already white-haired… Or maybe he aged as gracefully as old milk. Also a possibility.

Her blue eyes swept over Gabriel, kindly and assessing. 

“Your friend has an interesting scent, Jack.” Was all she said before she turned back to pot on the stove. Gabriel glanced at Jack to see how he would react- The dropping of the affectionate  _ Jackie  _ concerned him, as did her too-nonchalant tone. “Jack, why don’t you go talk to your father?” 

“My-” 

“Your father, Jack. It’s been a whole year, you know. You didn’t visit this summer… It was such a hard harvest, and your father misses you.” 

Jack’s expression was choked between a plea for help and asking Gabriel if he would be okay by himself. Gabriel inclined his head slightly, and Jack hurried out. 

“I know you’re a guest, dear- there are a few wicker chairs deeper in the kitchen. Why don’t you get one?” Gabriel couldn’t see her face from this angle, but Jack’s mother’s voice was managing to put him on edge. Something about how relaxed but  _ odd  _ it was. “I imagine you’re a little lagged from the trip. We’ve our own little slice of nothing, so far away from everything else…” 

In a whisper, as Gabriel shuffled by her: “Jack’s  _ told  _ you, correct?” 

“About?” Gabriel could feel his throat tighten. 

“Why don’t you fetch that chair, dear.” Jack’s mother waved him off vaguely with her hand. Gabriel, hesitant, headed deeper into the kitchen and retrieved one of three wicker chairs that’d been neatly tucked away. He set it down and slowly took a seat.

“You know by now, right?” 

“Know what?” 

“That Jack’s not entirely as he seems.” 

Gabriel uneasily wondered what she was getting at. Had Jack been  _ hiding  _ something? 

“We’re not entirely human, dear.” She continued stirring her pot without so much as glancing in his direction. 

“What?” Was that what this was about? “Oh, uh, yeah. I know already.” 

“Oh, thank you. I was worried Jack had brought a human here and not told him… Jack’s such an awkward boy sometimes, I wasn’t sure he would even broach the subject with you.” 

“Well, the way we met, it was really hard to not, you know…” Gabriel scratched the side of his neck.

“How  _ did  _ you meet, dear?” 

“He attacked me.”

“Oh my… Did you disturb his hoard?” 

“He was trying to save me.” 

_ Not that it changed anything. I still became the Reaper. Everything he did was completely pointless. _

The second worst pain he’d been in- vastly eclipsed by the agony of the Reaper taking over- had been all Jack’s fault.

_ He dropped you because you stabbed him, Gabriel.  _ A much more rational part of him said.  _ That’s your fault. _

Well, it was, but it was easier to blame it on Jack.

“Save you?” Jack’s mother inclined her head, waiting for an explanation.

“Things have been confusing in the past couple of weeks.” Gabriel shrugged slightly. “He took me to his hoard, and we traveled together for a while…” 

“What’s your name?” 

“Gabriel.” 

“Mary.” She gestured towards herself. “My husband’s name is John.” 

“So Jack is…” 

“John Morrison the second. To me, though, he’ll always be my Jackie-boy.” A smile crossed her wrinkled features. “Ahhh… You’ll have to forgive me. A mother’s pride never fades. He was the commander of Overwatch for a while, did he tell you about that?” 

“Yeah. It’s impressive.” A pause. “It’s not exactly the same thing, but I was a police officer…” 

“Oh, one of Jack’s friends was, too. Come to think of it, you two have a similar scent…” 

“Liao?” Gabriel guessed, his heart shriveling a little bit.

“Ah, yes, Liao! Such a wonderful woman. She replaced Jack as commander when he stepped down.” 

“What was that about scents?” 

A pause.

“You both smell like death.” 

Gabriel couldn’t help it- He laughed. A nervous, scared little laugh. “That’s grim, isn’t it?” 

“Peculiar, more like. I never asked her about it- I assumed it was a mortal thing.” 

“Liao’s a mortal?” 

“I assumed so. She never gave any hints off of being anything else.” A pause. “Are you?” 

_ I was.  _ “As mortal as mortal gets. Born human, die human.” 

“Nothing wrong with it.” A slight shrug. “My husband isn’t going to be happy about it. If he asks you to fight, don’t take him up on it. Just stay quiet until I sort him out.” 

God. He didn’t want to fight with Jack’s dad- Most of his fighting prowess was revolved around  _ being the Reaper  _ and having all those cool Reaper powers. The cat wasn’t out of the bag just yet, and Gabriel was planning on keeping that goddamn cat locked up tight until it clawed its way out. 

He could only hope that Jack wouldn’t bring it up with his dad. 

Faint footsteps perked Gabriel’s ears, the squeak of wood- In this case, stairs. 

“Here he comes,” Mary sighed to her pot. “Don’t say anything to him unless he asks a direct question, dear. He was always an aggressive male. Interesting when you’re a young woman in a small pride, but not exactly the best for domestic life…”

John entered the kitchen. 

He was just as wrinkled as his wife, balding with his remaining hair snow-white. He had a moustache but no beard, thick and curly, white. He made another mental note to ask Jack about the white hair thing. 

Jack’s father was dressed in red flannel, jeans, and cleaned boots. The weirdest thing about this seventy-something looking old man was that he didn’t have the classic old man paunch. He wasn’t as obviously muscular as Jack, but he certainly wasn’t scrawny. As Gabriel stared at him, he reflected on how weird it was for someone whose face looked like a rotted pumpkin to have that many muscles. The guy’s chest was huge, his shoulders massive. 

He was an inch or two shorter than Jack, and therefore, an inch or two shorter than Gabriel. Blue eyes, bordering more on gray than Jack and his mother’s blue. He looked slightly more monstrous than Jack or his mother- His ears were slightly elongated, though rounded at the tips. He definitely had fangs, and shorter fingers with longer nails. Frosty white hair carpeted his upper arms, presumably continuing even underneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt. 

“This is him, then?” A gruff growl that suited the rugged old man. He stared at Gabriel with open hostility, and Gabriel said nothing. “He smells terrible. Ill omen.” 

“He’s a guest, dear, be nice.” Mary told him patiently. “He’s one of Jack’s friends.” 

“John has too many of those.” His father had a strange gait- One that suggested it would be more comfortable on the ground. His legs were jointed normally, but there was an awkward waddling or shuffling, as if he were unaccustomed to being on two feet. “You couldn’t have brought home the British girl? Leema or Linda or whatever her name was?” 

“Lena, dear.” Mary stirred the contents of the pot again.

“Right. Why do you smell like that?” Aggressive blue eyes locked on Gabriel’s own. “And your eyes…” 

Ah. They were red, weren’t they? Shit. 

“Dear, people can change their eye color. I read something about it online a while ago…” Mary was  _ very  _ enraptured by that pot. Gabriel didn’t think she’d looked at any of them yet. 

“Red eyes…” A distrustful noise. “John, what kind of people are you hanging around with?” Jack got a cuff on the shoulder that he bore without so much as stumbling. 

“Gabriel’s a good man, Pa.” Jack inclined his head diplomatically. “He’s human.” 

John’s expression softened, although very slightly. “Hmph. Mary, how’s dinner coming?” 

“The lamb still has a while yet, dear.” She tapped her stirring spoon on the edge of the pan almost thoughtfully. “John, why don’t you wait by the front door and greet them? Louise and her kids are going to arrive next, I can feel it.” 

A grumble from Jack’s father, and the old man lumbered off, still not entirely satisfied.

“Thanks.” Gabriel cleared his throat. 

“My husband can be a badger sometimes.” She made a slight noise of derision. “Jack, sweetheart, can you chop that pineapple for me?” 

“Yeah.” 

There was a ripened pineapple just waiting on the countertop. Huh. 

Jack made quick work of it, hacking the top and sides off in precise motions. 

_ If we ever do get married, he’s making dinner.  _ Gabriel leaned against one of the walls, watching and maybe appreciating the view just a little.  _ I’ll do dishes and laundry. That’s a fair trade-off, right?  _

“Now that John is out of the way, do you boys want to fess up and tell me what’s wrong?” 

_ Fuck.  _

“Wrong, Ma?” Jack, who had been attempting to deftly cut out the core of the pineapple, wavered. 

“Jackie, I’m your mother. You may not have lied to me, but I can damn well tell when you’re not telling me the truth.” 

_ Double fuck.  _

“Jackie, please be honest with me. Your guest- Who is he? The eyes, his scent, and you never sent us letters about him. John’ll accept the eyes and everything else, but I won’t, and I want the truth.” 

“This stays between us, Ma.” Jack set down his knife, looking as though he would rather be stabbing himself with it. He headed across the room, brushing some of Mary’s hair behind her ear as he whispered to her.

“Oh my stars…” She glanced at Gabriel, eyes wide. Gabriel really wanted to take that knife Jack left on the counter and just ram it real deep into his own chest, but he offered her a weak smile and didn’t move. 

“But what are you doing  _ here?”  _

“Jack invited me.” Gabriel swallowed nervously despite himself.

“Jack, how did you ever meet…” Jack’s mother was gripping the nearest counter.

“I met him before he became… You know.” 

“We were friends. He tried to stop me from becoming this. It didn’t pan out.” Gabriel folded his arms defensively. “Listen, I’m not dangerous. I’ve been this way for only a week- I couldn’t go soul-stealing or murdering even if I wanted to, and I don’t.” 

She still looked hesitant.

“Ma, I’m responsible for him. If he hurts anyone, I’ll rip him apart myself.” Jack lifted his head. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Gabriel tossed a half-hearted glare in his direction.

“Gabriel, not right now.” Jack hissed. “Ma, I promise, he’s not dangerous. Not any more than Louise’s kids…” 

“Don’t mention this to your father.” She took a short, steadying breath. “He can stay, Jack, just… Keep him on a short leash.” 

That soured Gabriel’s mood, but he attempted to not to be bitter. He deserved this suspicion- After his future-telling, Gabriel was well aware  _ did  _ have the capacity for murder and enslavement. His guts twisted themselves into knots, and he didn’t argue.

“Of course, Ma. Best behavior for both of us.” Jack promised. “Gabriel, wait there for a minute.” 

He resisted the urge to spit back something irate and simply nodded. Jack headed back to his pineapple, dicing it quickly. 

_ Definitely going to be the cook between us.  _ He imagined Jack in a cute little apron. Then in nothing but a cute little apron. 

_ God dammit, stop. You’ve known him for less than two weeks. _

“Gabriel, come upstairs with me.” Jack unceremoniously shifted the pineapple chunks into a bowl. Gabriel went with him, yet again resigned to shuffling after Jack. 

“We’ve been here for fifteen minutes and I’m already sick of it.” Gabriel grumbled.

“You’re the one who wanted to come.” Jack reminded him again.

“I’m doing this for you,” Gabriel shot back. “Look, why don’t I just stay upstairs while you have dinner? Bring me something back after.” 

“Can’t. Pa’ll insist you come down for dinner, and I’m not about to tell him what you are just to keep you upstairs. I know the original plan was we were going to tell everyone, but I think it’s probably better to keep this between you, me, and Ma.” 

“You know, Jack, I’m really goddamn sick of people being scared of me just because of powers I may or may not use. You were talking to your mother like I wasn’t even there-”

“And I’m sorry, but I thought it was the best way to not get you or both of us kicked out.” 

“You’re lucky it’s hard to be mad at you.” Gabriel muttered. 

There was a flurry of talking from downstairs, voices Gabriel didn’t recognize. The thin sound of children’s voices, a haggard woman’s, a haggard man’s. Louise, her husband, her kids, if he had to take a guess. 

Jack urged him up the stairs. An about average hallway. Wooden floor. A few framed paintings or photographs. 

“Which room is yours?” Gabriel asked, curiosity momentarily eclipsing his irritation.

“That one.” Jack jerked his thumb in its direction. 

“Do I get to see, or-” 

“Yeah.” Jack pushed him forward, flinging open the door.

Immaculate wasn’t exactly the right word for the room. It had a made bed, neatly tucked. A small window, with the curtains drawn and faded by age. A cabinet in one corner of the room. Dust practically choked the room, and Gabriel wondered if it’d been a year since that door was opened.

It smelled musty- dirt and age. Where a narrow gap of sunlight slanted in through the window, dust particles flittered about the air, disturbed by Gabriel and Jack’s entry.

Other than the dust, the room was clean and incredibly barebones. Carpet, bed, cabinet, window- There were no personal items here at all, or at least, none he could see.

“I’m surprised you even sprung for a bed. Pretty spartan, isn’t it?”  

“Everything I used to own here is in my hoard now.” Jack folded his arms. 

“I only ever saw your, uh, gun hoard in there.” 

“There were a few other things.” 

Jack stiffened slightly, and Gabriel caught it a second later. A pattering of bare feet on the stairs, tiny steps that could only be children. 

“Uncle Jack!” 

A little six or possibly seven year old charged in. Barefoot, a majority of her face covered in downy feathers. Sharp, eaglesque amber eyes, hands coated in scales, nails dark and black. Her upper lip and nose was slightly together, colored a dark, hardened grey. A beak, maybe? She had a very distinct, though not very long tail, and stumpy little appendages on her back that Gabriel thought might be wings. They resembled a plucked chicken’s- bumpy, unfeathered, and an ugly pale color. 

“Hey, Audrey, merry Christmas!” Jack offered up a smile. Damn him and his perfect teeth. 

“Jack, who’s that?” She let go of his leg to point at Gabriel. 

“He’s my friend, Gabriel.” 

Audrey looked up at him, cautious but curious. 

“Hi.” Gabriel mustered up as cheerful as a smile as he could. “Jack invited me. Audrey, huh? Good name.” 

“Thanks,” She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, which made two of them that had no fuckin’ clue. “Jack, Ma got you a present, do you wanna come see?” 

“Not until after dinner,” Jack tempered her. “Run along, I’m sure Molly wants to play.” 

“I’m gonna catch her before Scott!” She scampered out on all four legs.

“I’m sure you will!” Jack called after her.

“Do all griffin kids look like that?” Gabriel asked. 

“Not all. I could completely turn into a human by the time I was her age.” 

“Is there anything you’re not good at?” 

A slight shrug. “Haven’t found anything yet.” 

“Breaking free of magical restraints,” Gabriel suggested. 

“Shut up.” Jack looked unamused. 

“Fine, fine. You know, now that that kid mentions it- told me you’d tell me what Molly was.” 

“A witch. She’s stuck as a cat, but she’s, well, immortal.” 

“I’ll bite. How’d she get stuck?” 

“Someone ripped her magic out of her and gave it to someone else.”

“You can do that?” 

“It’s very difficult. Either a god or a djinn would have to do it. Probably a god, djinn don’t usually bother with it. Since her magic still survives elsewhere, she’ll live forever. Well. At least until she’s reunited with her magic.” 

“I’m guessing she doesn’t want you to give her magic back.” 

“I don’t think so, either.”

“How’d you get her?” 

“A great great great great-” 

“Really old, got it.” 

“Yeah. One of my ancestors was her friend. Promised to take her in and get her magic back. He managed half of what we promised. Since he failed her, she’s going to live with the Morrisons until she dies.” 

“Which is never.” 

“Basically, yeah.” A slight shrug. “When my parents die, I’ll probably get her. If I die without kids, she’ll probably go to my cousins or their kids.” 

Gabriel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that Molly was significant in some way, but he couldn’t imagine how the hell a chubby kitty who he’d met once in his life could have any major impact in any way at all. He moved the thoughts aside. 

It took five hours for dinner to get ready. Most of it was following Jack around while he talked to various people, and occasionally introducing himself. Any questions about red eyes or strange smell was brushed off by Jack, Gabriel, or Mary. 

He had Jack’s entire family soon enough. Louise, her husband Tybalt, and their kids Dan, Scott, and Audrey. A divorced husband, Mark, with a full-blown griffin cub in his arms. She was just about house cat sized, blinking blearily at everyone and whimpering when it was too loud. Gabriel reflected on how lucky griffins were to not have shrieking, sobbing babies, and instead mostly docile cubs. 

The great grandmother Jack mentioned looked surprisingly healthy. She was maybe five feet tall, hair white as the freshly driven snow, with her eyes a brilliant, stunning yellow. She was missing most of her teeth, barring some worn molars and surprisingly sharp fangs. She was wrinkled like a prune, but her hands seemed mostly steady. She was resting on the couch, eyes closed, and Gabriel didn’t speak to her. Jack didn’t speak to her, either, evidently seeing it was wiser to simply let her rest. She occasionally blinked and looked around with her dandelion yellow eyes, but for the most part, she was napping. 

Gabriel met a handful of uncles and aunts, most of which were just as monstrous as Jack’s father. Everyone in the goddamn house, including the women and the occasional ten year old, were fucking ripped. There were no slight, dainty people in this family- even the aforementioned grandmother wasn’t an emaciated carcass, because Gabriel could see the defined line of her biceps even underneath her modest Christmas sweater. 

As more and more of the Morrison family crowded in, Gabriel grew…  _ Nervous.  _

_ How many of them could I restrain? How quickly?  _

“Hey,” Jack murmured, nudging his shoulder. “Gabriel, something wrong?”

“What?” He asked, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve been staring into space for the past five minutes. Your eyes…”

“What about them?” 

“They’ve been turning a darker red, almost brown, as we walked around, but they’re bright red now.” 

“That’s not my fault.” 

“I didn’t say it was. What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing’s the matter.” 

“Gabriel, don’t be-” He inhaled quietly, looking for a polite word. “Evasive.” 

“I’m wondering if I could stop everyone if they tried to attack me. Everyone here looks like they’ve got a twenty four hour gym membership, even the fu- the  _ frickin’  _ kids.” 

“No one is going to hurt you, Gabriel.” 

“After what’s happened in the past two weeks, I think I’m justified in my godd- god darn paranoia, Jack.” 

“Maybe. Just… Try to lighten up. I know I said I’d stop you if you try to hurt anyone, but you’re just as important to me as the rest of my family. If they start the fight, I’ll help you end it.” 

_ You’re just as important to me as the rest of my family.  _

His heart quivered and soared, and he tried to stamp down a sudden wave of supreme giddiness. He knew that Jack liked him, but to hear him say it…

He could understand the Gabriel from the second future. Hearing Jack say that was a _rush,_ unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He could understand the appeal of keeping Jack on his knee, understood the appeal of possessive kisses and the “I love yous” that he knew that future Gabriel made future Jack say. 

The difference between him and that Gabriel was the other Gabriel was too delusional to realize none of it was meant in earnest. 

“Thanks.”

He turned his back on Jack quickly. 

His heart beat uncomfortably fast, and he couldn’t stop smiling like a goddamn doofus. 

“I’m going to go outside. I’ll be back soon- I just need to get away for a second.” 

“I’ll come with you-” Jack offered immediately.

“That’ll just be suspicious.” Gabriel shook his head. “I wouldn’t leave you here, trust me. Be right back.” 

As he headed for the front door, a very mussed Molly trailed after him.

“You want out too?” Gabriel asked. The cat’s ears twitched, but she didn’t look up. 

Gabriel let her and himself out, closing the door quietly behind him. Molly bounded off into the direction of the woods. He guessed if you were immortal you didn’t really have to worry about predators or getting lost. You couldn’t die and you lived long enough to find your way back eventually. 

He was still smiling. He massaged the corners of his mouth, trying to force the smile down, but no such luck. Damn shame, too, because his face was starting to hurt. 

_ You’re just as important to me as the rest of my family.  _

_ Well,  _ he told Jack in his head,  _ you’re more important to me than anyone else in my family.  _

He’d sell his mother’s soul for a corn chip, in all honesty. His father’s for… Maybe… A bowl of corn chips. 

He should ask the golems for corn chips when he got home. He had a sudden craving, now that he was thinking about it. Some good salsa, too. Have to make it mild, since Jack probably couldn’t stand anything spicier than taco seasoning. 

“Gabriel, you alright?” The front door opened a sliver to reveal, unsurprisingly, Jack. 

“Yeah. Uh, I was allowed to let the cat out, right?” 

“Molly’s not a huge fan of the kids. Or not the grabby ones, at least. She’ll be back for dinner.” 

“Great. Uh, when is dinner, anyway?” 

The smell of the lamb was starting to get to his stomach. Seasoned or not, meat was meat and food was food. The scent of cranberries and pie and broccoli and stuffing wafted through the open door, hitting Gabriel again and making the cold outside feel much less cold. 

He joined Jack. 

“An hour, maybe. Do I need to educate you on table manners-” 

“A refresher course would be good.” 

“You can choose what goes on your plate, but the host eats first. Don’t drink too much wine, keep your elbows off the table. Other than that, you should be fine. After dinner comes presents, then the buzzed adults will probably go and spar outside.” 

“Spar?” 

“Fight. Friendly competitions.” 

“Let me guess- You’ve won every year?” 

“Well, not  _ every  _ year. Just most of them.” 

“You’re a goddamn wonder, Jack.” 

“Don’t  _ swear,  _ Gabe.” 

“Sorry.” Gabriel shrugged. “Since I’m not going to fight, am I a spectator?” 

“You’ll probably spectate. The losers have to go help Ma clean up and do the dishes, but you could help with that if you want.” 

“I think I’ll watch. It’s gonna be a good fight if you’re in it.” 

The tips of Jack’s ears went pink, and he coughed into his fist. “I guess.” 

The next hour was spent mingling around the adults and children. Gabriel, much to his pleasure, got to tell a slightly exaggerated story about a hysteric young man who called 911 about being stabbed, and when they turned up he had very obviously lightly cut himself and made the whole thing up. Seven enraptured children listened to his tale with rapt attention, and Gabriel was happy to be the center of attention without it being Reaper-themed for once. 

He relayed another about a young woman who was convinced her cousin had drowned in rain, but it proved to be she had fainting spells and hadn’t drowned at all. 

Another where a man was convinced his dog was planning on stabbing him on the second monday of June in ten years. The ‘dog’ the man was convinced would stab him was an empty dingo mascot costume that had been reported stolen a few days before.

Jack was also listening, in that quiet and eavesdroppy way he did whenever Gabriel had lessons with Angela. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Jack’s mother called from deep in the kitchen. “Louise, Mark, Jack, come set the table!” 

Finally. 

He relayed another story to the kids, taking glances back at Jack every so often. 

“Have you ever shot anybody?” One of the kids- Scott?- interrupted the story, and Audrey whacked him on the back of the head. 

“I want to hear the story! Shut up!” 

_ I shot Jack once. Your… Cousin, I guess.  _

So weird to think about. All these kids were Jack’s mother’s sibling’s kid’s kids. What did that make them? Cousins once removed? Twice removed? Three times? 

“We try to not shoot people.” Gabriel told Scott. “It happens sometimes, but we try not to.” 

“Have you?” 

“Yes.” He had shot people before Jack, too. Ten years of being an officer in LA, it was almost impossible not too.

“Did he die?” 

“No.” A slight shake of his head. 

“Did he go to jail?” Scott cheeped.

“Yes, yes he did. He’s still serving.”  _ Twenty-five year sentence. _

An entire quarter of life, snatched away. He was lucky Gabriel hadn’t taken all of it. 

Jack’s father strode over with purpose from the kitchen- Gabriel shut his mouth and let John talk over him. 

“Come to the dining room, it’s dinnertime.” With a much more gruff voice, directed at Gabriel: “You too.”

Gabriel strangled a sarcastic remark before it could leave him, and accepted the directions with a nod.  

He got a seat next to Jack, near the head of the table. Candles had been lit all along the length of the table, burning bright and warm. Covered dishes sat in the gaps between the candles. The large, shining platter in the center must’ve been the lamb, and there were some others he could guess at. Mashed potatoes, fruit, casserole, stuffing- the pie must’ve still be in the kitchen, which was a shame, because that was what Gabriel was personally most interested in. 

There was a kid’s table, which all the children were clustered around. Someone had let Molly back inside, as she was currently at the foot of the kid’s table. 

Jack’s grandmother sat at the head of the table, casting her gaze out at the assembled people. She seemed smart, alert, a sharp contrast to the husk that’d been dozing on the couch. Her yellow eyes were even more striking- Sharp, severe. 

“I’m glad you all could join us for Christmas this year.” She had a surprising clear voice, with a strange quirk to it that Gabriel couldn’t decide was an accent, a lisp, or a feature of being old. “There are many faces I have seen before… And some that are new.” 

Those burning eyes lingered on Gabriel and Mark’s new cub. 

_ She knows exactly what I am,  _ he realized, chill leaping up his spine. 

“I am glad that God has given us this meal, and this time to share with one another as we remember and commemorate His son’s birth. Blessings upon us all, and a merry Christmas to everyone.” 

Wordlessly, everyone at the table lowered their heads. Gabriel assumed prayers- He did catch the older children whispering and instructing the younger children to lower their heads, and Molly leapt on the table to ensure they were praying appropriately. 

Jack’s great grandmother lifted her head. “Enjoy the bountiful feast God has blessed us with this Christmas.” 

Gabriel wordlessly glanced at Jack, who looked as if the charade was starting to weigh on him. There was a great shuffling of plates and talking as people attempted to get the food they wanted. 

Jack, bless him, mumbled: “What do you want?” 

“Meat.” Gabriel said decisively. 

“You can’t eat just lamb.” 

“Stuffing.” 

“You should have vegetables…”

“What am I, five? I don’t have to eat vegetables anymore.” 

Jack’s face tightened, and he took Gabriel’s plate, heading around the table as he loaded up his plate and Gabriel’s. 

When he got back, Gabriel’s plate was full of lamb, stuffing, potatoes, and broccoli. Gabriel ate the broccoli first just to get Jack off his back, then voraciously tore into the lamb. 

He didn’t think he’d ever had lamb before, but it was good. Could use more seasoning than just salt, but still. Good. 

“Would you like any wine?” Jack inquired, voice cool and polite. 

“I’d love to get smashed on Christmas. You got an entire bottle?” Gabriel murmured.

Jack shot him a glare. 

“Okay, okay. Just a glass.”

The wine was good.

The food was good.

The company was good.

Well. If he ignored everyone except for Jack and possibly Jack’s mother. 

It wasn’t terrible, as far as Christmasses go. 

Gabriel listened politely to the snippets of conversation, kind of curious about what a stereotypical white family talked about at Christmas dinner. His Christmas get-togethers ( before he was an adult ) consisted of his mother, his father, and his grandmother kind of just… Hanging out. They stopped doing Christmas after Gabriel was eighteen. 

“Scott is doing so well in school…” 

“You added how much to your hoard?” 

“A toast to your good health, Grandma.” 

“We got some neighbors moving in, and I think they’re human! The neighborhood is entirely made of nonhumans, so I’m trying to figure out how we could get them to leave…” 

“Jack, I haven’t seen you in a while, you look good for your age.” 

Jack, who had been politely having a conversation with his uncle ( Stephen? Honestly, it was hard keeping track ) paused, as Stephen had finally asked the question Gabriel had been dreading.

“So, Jack, your friend… He’s not very talkative, is he? I don’t think he’s said anything this whole dinner.” 

Gabriel’s lamb nearly got stuck in his throat, but he swallowed. 

“He’s shy.” Jack set down his wine a little too quickly. Gabriel kicked him under the table. 

_ Shy, my ass.  _

“This is the first time he’s seen so many nonhumans. You know how humans are, scared of everything.” 

A nod of contentment from Stephen, and he offered Gabriel a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright. Jack’s the most ferocious griffin on this side of the Mississippi, he’s good to have as a protector. Of course, I live on the other side and he really doesn’t hold a candle…”

“We’ll see after dinner.” Jack’s mouth quirked up in a grin.

Gabriel’s ears burned.

Stephen’s wife ( Melody? ) leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s certainly handsome, Jack. So, did you have to convince him, or did he let you lead without a fight?”  

“Oh- Uh, no- We haven’t-” 

“Jack, don’t be shy. We’re not as strict as your father.” A wink from Stephen. “Although I think he’s a little too… Mmm…  _ Virile  _ for my tastes. I guess you’d get bored with a submissive man, though.” 

_ Are you fucking joking.  _

“Jack needs a challenge.” Melody elbowed him, a semi-whisper. “Dominating a small, submissive human wouldn’t be enough…” 

“Gabriel’s certainly, uh, a handful.” Jack shrugged. 

_ Oh my God.  _

They were  _ talking about him like he wasn’t even there.  _ And the way they were speaking- 

As if Jack  _ owned  _ him. As if he were a pet or a conquest or something less than human, a  _ trophy.  _ A status symbol.

“When did you become mates? It must’ve been in the last year, or you would’ve shown him off at last Christmas.” 

_ Shown me off-!  _ Indignation choked Gabriel’s throat so thickly he wasn’t sure he could make any noise but angry sputters. 

The heel of Jack’s foot came down very sharply on Gabriel’s foot, and he almost choked on his lamb. 

“We’ve met only very recently.” Jack said, voice falsely saccharine. Rage curled up in Gabriel’s belly, and Jack’s heel ground dangerously against Gabriel’s toes, a warning. 

Gabriel grit his teeth and looked down at his plate. 

“That’s imp-” 

“Stephen, tell me how your hoard is.” Jack’s mother, who had been in a conversation with Jack’s father, broke off to talk to her ( brother? ). Thank God, because if Gabriel had to listen to him blabbing about how strong and manly Jack must’ve been to get Gabriel to be a sub then he was going to actually leap across the table and choke him.

“Melody and I went diving off the coast of Spain last year- We talked to a few mermaids and they lead us to a sunken ship full of coins!” 

While Stephen was momentarily busy chattering away, Gabriel kicked Jack under the table. The griffin winced softly.

_ Good, I hope it hurt.  _

“What the  _ hell,  _ Jack,” Gabriel hissed. 

“Sorry- I know how Stephen is, I had to play along…” 

“No, you didn’t-”

“Gabriel, chances are you’re never going to see Stephen again. Ever. Just deal with it for  _ one day,  _ alright? Just six more hours.” 

Gabriel growled into his mashed potatoes. “Why were they  _ talking  _ like that?” 

“Oh, uh… When male griffins take male partners, one partner is submissive. Lesser. Typically the submissive partner is small or human, sometimes both. The submissive partner is treated more like a possession than a person. It’s- it’s how old, traditionalist griffins can justify homosexual relationships… As if it were domination instead of love.” 

“Just for the record,” Gabriel muttered, “The Reaper is not your bitch.” 

Jack almost spit out his food, managing to restrain himself to a few coughs. “Yeah, I know.”

Gabriel downed another glass of wine, and Jack quickly followed suit. 

In ten minutes, every plate was cleared, and everyone filtered into the front yard. Someone had drawn a deep circle in the dirt, fifty feet in length and twenty or so in width. 

The children sat down on the porch, and Gabriel leaned up against the railing.

The sun had set already, but its light wasn’t quite gone. The horizon still blazed orange, clouds shaded a warm pink.  

“How do you decide who fights who?” Gabriel nudged Jack, who was standing beside him, with his elbow. 

“There’s a system.” Jack assured him vaguely. “I don’t fight until the last match, because I was the champion last year.” 

“How many times have you won?” 

“I don’t keep track.” 

“Bullshit you don’t.” 

An easy laugh. “Sixty seven times. A little more than half of the times I’ve fought.” 

“Only half, huh? Why’s that?” 

“Up until I was thirty or so, my great grandmother fought. I always let her win.” 

“And afterwards you went to the kitten orphanage to help the poor cats in need,” Gabriel replied, rolling his eyes. “God, you are insufferably noble sometimes.”

“I do my best,” Jack replied modestly. 

“Gah, stop.”

First match was starting. Stephen and Melody were facing off against one another, and Gabriel couldn’t lie, he really wanted to watch the both of them get hurt. 

Stephen’s body split into a bird-headed beast. Smaller and slighter than Jack’s form, with razor-sharp talons and dull, blackish brown feathers like his hair. His blue eyes burned fiercely in their sockets, stretching open his beak and snapping it shut. 

Melody’s feathers were a light blond, her fur a deeper, golder tawny. She parted her beak in a shriek, rearing up on her hind paws and spreading her wings. Even slighter and smaller than Stephen or Jack, but her talons were just as lethal and her beak was sharp. 

Gabriel was surprised to see blood almost instantly. Melody’s claws flashed across Stephen’s side, ripping gouges- Stephen whirled, managing to grab her tail in his beak. She shrieked in pain, paws and talons slashing. Stephen let go soon enough to give a birdlike caw of paw. He was bleeding heavily on one of his flanks, with Melody’s tail nearly snapped clean off.

“How do you decide the loser?” Gabriel asked. It couldn’t be a fight to the death, but he had difficulty believing they could fight so brutally for sport without  _ someone  _ getting hurt.

“When they can’t fight anymore.”

“This shit is dangerous.” Gabriel mumbled. 

“I haven’t died yet.”

“ _ Yet,”  _ Gabriel reminded him patiently. 

“I’m grateful you’re concerned, but it’s not necessary.” Jack shook his head slightly. 

A shriek commanded Gabriel’s attention- He turned his head to look at the arena. Melody had Stephen pinned, beak clamped on the back of his neck. He was kicking and shrieking, attempting to struggle. His beak snapped, open and shut, but Melody didn’t let go and he reluctantly sank to the earth and lay still. 

“He lost,” Jack whispered.

“I got that, thanks.” Gabriel replied dryly. “So much for beating you.” 

When Melody let her husband go, he stood up and shook himself off, speckling the impromptu arena with blood. She licked his flank tenderly, tongue bloodied due to his wounds.

“What’s she doing?” Gabriel’s nose wrinkled.

“Griffin saliva heals. He’ll be back to normal in a few hours.”

“So when I shot you back at your hoard…” 

“You clipped my shoulder. A couple licks and it was alright.”

“Wait a minute- So that morning, when I wasn’t injured…” 

“I fixed it for you.” Jack tugged at his shirt sheepishly. “I’m sorry about biting you, but griffins don’t have hands.” 

“I shot you twice and stabbed you… I guess it’s fair.” Gabriel admitted begrudgingly. 

More pairs went. Jack’s mother and father threw down, and Jack’s mother beat him by a narrow margin. Mark and Louise contested, Louise proving the victor. Some uncles and aunts and cousins Gabriel had been introduced to but didn’t remember also contested and lost.

“Guess I’m up.” Jack shot Gabriel a winning smile. Jack’s mother went limp and docile under Louise, and the griffin flicked her tail proudly.

Louise was unique, like Jack- She was one of the reverse griffins, with a lion’s head and a bird’s lower body. Gabriel figured the addition of teeth, lionlike bulk, and sheathable claws gave a reverse griffin a leg up on their bird-headed brethren.

Mary slunk off, her husband padding up in his griffin form and licking her wounds tenderly. 

Jack and Louise clashed viciously- She went for his stomach instead of his throat, aware of how thick a male lion’s mane could be. Since she did not have a mane, he went for her throat. 

Jack fought brutally. He barreled into her at top speed, holding nothing back. Claws flashed, teeth glinted, paws stamped and tails whipped. Jack scored her chest and she bit down flimsily on the side of his shoulder. He shook himself, managing to tear her off, although she went along with a chunk of skin and a lot of blood.

Jack lunged, on the attack. His bloodied muzzle was a stark contrast to the glowing white of his fur and mane.

Louise dodged, swiping a paw in Jack’s direction. He ducked to avoid and lunged at her again, managing to slam into her hips and knock her over. She flailed with her hind legs, vicious talons kicking blindly in Jack’s direction. Jack managed to avoid them, and went straight for her throat. She shrieked in alarm, trying to flip back on her belly, but by then it was too late. 

Jack’s teeth gingerly rested on her throat, and she relinquished the duel to him.

_ Chalk that up to sixty eight.  _ Gabriel folded his arms.  _ He’s going to be impossible.  _

Jack let her go. They exchanged licks- Louise on the wound to Jack’s shoulder, Jack to the cut on her chest. 

Jack padded back to Gabriel, pattering up the porch ( and barely fitting. )

“That was fast,” Gabriel feigned disinterest.

_ “Raaah.”  _

“Jack, you know I don’t speak lion.” 

Jack shapeshifted back- Gabriel didn’t think he’d ever get used to a four hundred or five hundred pound big cat shifting into a friendly looking Jack. 

“Sorry, I forgot you don’t-” 

“Jack! Celebrate your victory with your family!” Stephen called. “Your mate can wait!” 

Gabriel’s face burned again. 

“Gabriel. Cool it.” Jack whispered. “Your eyes…” 

“Mhmm.” Gabriel closed them, making a slight, strained noise. “Go talk to them.” 

“I’ll save you desert if you want to stay out here…” 

“Yeah.” 

Everyone trooped inside, leaving Gabriel outside and alone.

The sun slipped past the sky. Bands of grey and dark blue striped the horizon, but everywhere else had dissolved into inky black. Out here, in the middle of goddamn nowhere, you could see faintly see arm of the Milky Way in the heavens above.

You could see maybe a handful of stars in LA on a good night.

It was beautiful out here.

It might be the wine that was making him like this. Was it three glasses he’d had? Four? 

_ Don’t get emotional, pussy.  _

He wasn’t a sad drunk. Usually an angry one. Maybe the Reaper made him a melancholy drinker.

Great.

He didn’t know how long he’d just been there. Staring off into the sky. 

Something about seeing the stars, being alone, in the middle of the woods during a cold winter night, made you feel…

There were a lot of words for it. None of them fit quite right.

Pensive. Introspective. Tired. A little uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t explain. Cold. Insignificant. Ponderous. Frightened, maybe just a little. Uncertain. Melancholic. Nostalgic. Lonely. 

“Gabe?” 

Ah. Jack.

He motioned for him to walk over.

Jack set down a plate of pumpkin pie, covered in a generous helping of whipped cream, on the railing. Beside it, a small glass of eggnog.

“Spiked?” Gabriel regarded the glass with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah.” 

Gabriel picked it up and downed it in one go. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I think the wine hit me a little hard.” Gabriel shook his head slightly.

“And you called  _ me  _ a lightweight.” 

“Don’t tease me right now, you’ll break my heart.” Gabriel offered the quirk of a smile.

Hands weren’t as steady as they could be. Gabriel had a forkful of pie and managed to not stab himself.

“You fought well.” Gabriel praised gently, swiping his tongue over his lips for remnants of whipped cream. “Fast.” 

“I like winning quickly. I hate drawing things out.” 

A slight grunt. “Yeah.” 

A silence between the two of them, short and quiet. 

Gabriel swallowed another mouthful of pie, then turned to Jack. Jack turned to meet him.

“Hey, Jack.”

“Yeah?” 

Gabriel kissed him. 

Jack didn’t pull away. 

His arms tentatively came to rest on Gabriel’s hips, and he tilted his head.

He tasted strongly of cinnamon, whipped cream, and coffee. Gabriel leaned in deeper, and Jack accommodated. 

It felt right.

He had been wanting to do it for a long, long time. 

The whole day. The whole week.

Shared glances and sneaky exchanges. Happy smiles. Accidental hand brushing during their lessons. The moments of comfort they had shared- a stroke of a hand across damaged knuckles. A whisper of comfort. Bright blue eyes and a soft mouth in a soft smile.

Gabriel sighed and pulled away. 

“How many glasses?” Jack asked. 

“Four. I think.” Gabriel rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Maybe five. You left the bottle next to me.” 

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Jack shook his head slightly. “You’re only feeling it now?” 

“Yeah. S’about right.” 

Jack gave his back a comforting rub. “It’s only seven. Let’s get you some water.” 

“I’m not that bad.” Gabriel’s brow crinkled.

“Wait for the eggnog to kick in. Mark makes it hard.” 

“Dammit.” 

Jack shepherded Gabriel inside, fetching him a glass of water. He rebuffed his relatives’ questions with polite, cheerful interest and brought Gabriel up into his room.

“Drink it,” Jack instructed, handing him the water. 

“Yes,  _ dad.”  _

“We went over that yesterday,” Jack’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Mr. Dad.” 

Gabriel groaned and downed the offered glass. “Go get my pie, Mr. Dad, I left it outside.” 

Jack left. 

Before he returned, Gabriel dozed off. 

He woke up to a slight shaking of his shoulder, and he grunted quietly in protest. 

“Gabriel.” Jack, whispering softly. “It’s ten. Almost everyone else is gone.” 

Gabriel grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. Jack didn’t protest that one, either. 

“You haven’t been drinking in your sleep, have you?” Jack asked, bemused.

“I  _ like  _ you, you fucking idiot.” Gabriel muttered, rolling over on his side. 

“Oh.” 

Jack sat on the edge of the bed.

“It would be easier if I could pin this on you being drunk.”

“If you don’t want this then  _ say so,  _ Jack. Don’t like getting led on.” 

“No, no- I’m-” Hesitation. “I like you, Gabriel. Or I wouldn’t have let you kiss me. But I’m worried it won’t be good for you.” 

“Won’t be good for me?” Gabriel echoed.

“Angela and I have been talking-”

“Oh my  _ God,  _ don’t tell me she’s got you under her thumb.” 

“Gabriel,” Jack’s voice was sharper, sterner. “You’re not… In a good mental state right now. The Reaper is psychologically damaging. It’s been observed in  _ every  _ Mantle, not just you or Amelie.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“I do. If we start a relationship now, you could grow a… Psychological dependence. There was a clear case between Amelie and Angela-”

“I’m  _ not  _ Amelie and you’re _ not _ Angela. If you want to back out, then back out!” Anger forced his words to be louder, faster. 

A heartbeat of silence.

“Jack?” 

Did he leave? No. He didn’t hear footsteps. Gabriel glanced back over at him. 

“We could… Try to make this work.” Jack gave a short, jerky nod. “But we have to… I don’t know. You have to tell me if anything’s wrong.” 

Gabriel was silent.

“Gabriel. Promise me, if anything is wrong, you’ll tell me. If you feel like you can’t live without me, it’s a problem.” 

“I promise, Jack.” 

A slight sigh from the griffin- he rested his hand on Gabriel’s hip. 

“Whenever you’re up to it… Let’s go home.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay of this chapter, but it's currently sitting at over 12,000 words, which is over triple and almost quadruple the average chapter length!
> 
> As you may have guessed, this is the end of act two! My projected 145,000 words is shot, unfortunately, because i anticipated this chapter to be half this length...
> 
> A reminder- I do read all the comments and notes left on bookmarks! I promise I'm not ignoring any of you, and I love that you all have enjoyed this silly little thing so much!


	34. Oh Me Oh My How the Time Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel balances his new relationship and role as the Reaper over the course of a few months.

The days proceeded as usual.

Gabriel woke up the following morning, slightly hungover and incredibly drowsy, and scored a seventy-five on his quiz. He argued that was three-forths, which was still pretty good, and Angela told him she would keep him here for three-forths of the day if he kept arguing with her. Jack looked sympathetic, but he didn’t dare challenge Angela.

Despite the relationship Gabriel and Jack had chosen to pursue, things didn’t change very much. There was handholding in private. Kisses exchanged. Hugs. Gabriel hadn’t realized how starved of human contact he had been until he got it regularly. There was some strange, oddly…  _ human  _ contentment in laying his head on Jack’s shoulder or holding his hand or feeling his stubble. 

In January, the rains came. 

Gabriel requested the technomancer, Sombra. He asked her for a laptop and internet connection, which he thought was more than fair to have in this day and age. Twelve hours later, he found one in his room. 

Free of branding or any trademarks, immaculately made. Goddamn thing looked like it cost thousands of dollars- it was big, metal, and elegant, not a shitty little three hundred dollar thing that was barely managing to not overheat like his old one. 

After a more thorough examination, Gabriel found something that tipped him off to its creator.  _ Torbjörn  _ was neatly carved on the side in fancy script, which gave Gabriel the answer of where it’d come from. Apparently the enigmatic dwarf in the basement was good for more than golems and alchemy. 

He set up the laptop himself, and on the following Monday morning, Gabriel and Jack curled up on his bed and marathoned an old TV show about King Arthur. There was something comforting,  _ homely  _ about huddling in the dark with Jack and listening to rain patter the exterior of the mansion. 

Occasionally his body decided to try to reject the Reaper again. This came in bouts of lung wracking coughing, vomiting, rotting corpse hands, difficulty breathing, the occasional accidentally turning into smoke, teleporting mishaps, sneezing blood, urinating blood, and general nausea and various other shit. Fortunately, this laundry list of symptoms occurred infrequently, though typically four or more of them were bundled together and happened all at once. 

Gabriel distinctly remembered throwing up into a bucket for half the day while Jack rubbed his back and periodically got him water. That, more than any hand holding or kissing, proved Jack’s love to Gabriel. 

When Gabriel wasn’t sick or busy with lessons, the two of them went outside on walks into the forest on days when the rain was light. The trips to the forest was more for Jack’s benefit than his own- Gabriel knew very well that he missed his winter home and his hoard very dearly. Gabriel hoped the scent of pine, loam, the drizzle of rain and the forested scenery would help him feel just the slightest bit better. 

There were occasional days where the clouds skirted and the sky was blue, but they were infrequent at best.

While it was raining, most of Amelie’s lessons were verbal instead of physical, coordinated with Angela. If Gabriel learned about slyzards under Angela’s instruction, then in Amelie’s lessons Gabriel would learn how to most efficiently _ fight  _ a slyzard. On the days where it wasn’t raining, Amelie marched him out to the field to fight despite the mud left over from the day before. After the first day Gabriel realized he shouldn’t wear clothes that he actually liked- the mud was so deeply ingrained in some shirts that he was convinced the only way to get it out would be to burn the cloth entirely. 

The house felt almost  _ empty  _ without Zenyatta. Breakfasts were quiet. Lunch moreso. Dinners involved all four of them, but Angela and Amelie never said much. Gabriel was pretty certain that without the routine of lessons and learning he would’ve gone insane from all the quiet and emptiness. 

Melancholic was the way he’d describe how he felt for the majority of January, occasionally interlaced with Jack’s comfort or Angela’s instruction or Amelie’s fist. Gabriel thought he liked it here. Other times he thought he hated it. There were days where he missed Liao, Ana, Reinhardt, Hanzo, and even Jamison very dearly. 

_ That might be why he did it. Why I did it.  _ He realized one morning. He and Jack were out on a walk, and both of them were deep in thought. They hadn’t exchanged a word the whole while, but their fingers were intertwined and they walked in step with one another.  _ He was lonely. I was lonely. Those trophies, as fucked up as they were, they meant he- I- was always close to friends he- I- had.  _

He didn’t think he was  _ that _ delusional. Not yet, anyway. He felt emotions much more intensely than he thought he did before, although Jack and Angela helped temper it into something less likely to get people hurt. 

January could be described as  _ bittersweet. _

February was better.

He was growing into his role, and he could feel it. Angela cleared him of any flulike symptoms or remnants of his body trying to fight off the illness. Gabriel didn’t care about the fact he was cleared, only about what it meant: no more terrible, sometimes crippling illness, no more lying in bed trembling and coughing up blood. 

Angela also told him he was free to go anywhere he wished, even if that was permanently away from the mansion. He was, by all rights, a fully fledged Reaper, although very obviously a novice. 

This meant he got access to the new Reaper’s quarters. 

Evidently, Amelie had never used it.

It was exactly as the second to last Reaper had left it when Amelie had killed him.

“It can only be opened by a fully fledged Reaper…” Angela had told him. She, Amelie, Jack, and Gabriel were all congregated outside the door.

It was a solid metal door. No visible handles or knobs, only a small indentation in the center of the door to indicate it wasn’t a wall.  

Gabriel placed his hand on the metal. Nothing happened, and the three spectators held their collective breath.

“Am I supposed to-” 

The door opened with a loud, almost exaggerated creak. 

Jack moved to step in, and Amelie grabbed his arm fiercely. 

“No one goes in the Reaper’s room unless they’re a Reaper.” Amelie growled.

“You guys did,” Gabriel objected. “Wait, how did you even get in with the door like this?” 

“It can be opened freely from the inside. A pixie stayed within when the former Reaper slept, and she opened the door for us.” A slight shrug. “And that was different. Unless Jack plans on killing you, he’s not allowed in.” 

“Amelie, there have been exceptions.” Angela tempered the other harpy. “Reapers were occasionally known to allow friends and lovers…” 

A derisive snort, and Amelie let go of Jack’s arm. 

The room was large and circular. 

A bed dominated the center of the room, king sized or greater. Massive windows that Gabriel didn’t recall seeing anywhere outside the mansion offered a view onto the mansion’s expansive lawn. One way windows, maybe? Magic, like the multicolored chandelier in the dining room. The curtains were halfway drawn, as if someone couldn’t decide whether or not they would want them shut later. 

Gabriel stopped studying the windows and turned his attention elsewhere. Adorning the circular walls were curved bookshelves to match, each shelf roughly three-thirds of the way filled with books. There were a couple things on the shelves that weren’t books- If Gabriel had to guess, he would say potion ingredients, but it could be that some Reaper liked collecting weird objects and putting them in glass jars. In another corner, past the bookshelves, was a big mahogany desk surrounded by drawers. Fountain pens, along with slightly aged printer paper, still sat on the shelf. Gabriel studied it for a second- the paper that’d been worked on prior looked to be a draft of some kind of treaty. Whatever it’d been, the damn thing was at least ten years old now. As far as Gabriel was concerned, it wasn’t any of his business. 

“Oh,  _ God!”  _ Jack choked from across the room. Gabriel looked over at him- He was currently by the bed, nose wrinkled. “You didn’t even move the  _ body?”  _

“No.” Amelie responded bluntly. “He wasn’t a man who deserved a burial.” 

Gabriel was expecting a wizened, dried corpse, but it was a skeleton, with a few… Soft bits that hadn’t quite rotted away. It was still tucked in the covers, posed peacefully. There wasn’t even a wrinkle in the bedsheets… He had died without a fight. 

“I’m not sleeping on that,” Gabriel eyed the bed critically.

“Of course not!” Angela hurried to comfort him. “After this, it would be best to get an entirely new mattress, an entirely new bed… The golems could bring it in if you want. It’s your space, after all- The room is entirely yours to do whatever you please with it. But if you’re going to completely redecorate, I’d ask you give me the books. This entire room is a treasure trove of knowledge and rare alchemical ingredients!” 

“What? No, those can stay, I just don’t want to sleep in a bed that’s had a dead guy in it for ten years.” 

“Fair enough,” Angela said diplomatically, and that settled the matter. 

It took a week or so to get an entirely new bed and to remove ( and burn ) the old one. Amelie made off with the old Reaper’s skeleton and Gabriel didn’t ask what she did with it. He got the feeling he didn’t want to know. 

Jack was initially wary about staying in a room sacred to Reapers, but gentle persuading coaxed him to give it a shot. 

Gabriel would admit, he could absolutely understand why Jack was hesitant. The size of the room was… Bothersome. He kept thinking he saw things in the shadows of the bookcases or the desks or the wardrobes. To combat this, at night he would draw the curtains and let moonlight flood the room, but it didn’t help that much. 

Gabriel may have asked to be the little spoon a few times. Maybe. 

Not that he was scared of the dark or anything. Jack’s warmth against his back just made him feel… safer. 

Jack didn’t mock him for it, which was nice. He was also very gracious and understanding when Gabriel wanted to swap positions. 

“Still awake?” Gabriel didn’t roll over, but he did nudge Jack’s chest with his elbow.

“Mhm.” 

“Can’t sleep either?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Still sleepy, though.” 

A mumble of assent. 

“Swap with me?” 

Warmth exchanged as they wriggled around on the sheets, trying to find a newer, more comfortable position. Gabriel took Jack’s old spot as big spoon and Jack didn’t mind at all. The both of them slept okay that night. 

Valentine’s Day was fun. 

Gabriel didn’t really have any  _ money,  _ but he did have the ability to teleport anywhere on the planet. They went to Paris, which Gabriel thought was more than romantic enough.

Jack brought him to a ritzy little diner, where he claimed that the owner “owed him one”, and they ate together. No one bothered them- At that moment, at their table, it was just Gabriel, Jack, breadsticks, and free food. Some wine, too, but Gabriel had a glass and no more. After Christmas, he was hesitant to drink too much wine again.  

Dessert was good.  _ Really  _ good. Mousse, he thought the owner had called it? Her accent was so thick he could barely understand her, but he appreciated the free food nonetheless.

After they’d tidied up and Jack had bid the owner farewell, Gabriel asked Jack if he wanted to go anywhere else for Valentine’s. 

He did his best to jump them to New York ( at Jack’s request ) and they ended up on a beach somewhere on the east coast, which he thought was close enough. Gabriel gave it another shot and they ended up in a in the very back of a large theatre, up in the nosebleed seats and behind everyone else. Gabriel moved to teleport them out, but Jack stopped him and held a finger up to his lips. 

They ended up watching a play about… Fuck, most of went over his head, but he thought it might’ve been something Revolutionary War themed. Not exactly the most romantic thing in the world, but hey, Jack looked like he was having fun. 

When the play ended, Gabriel teleported them out before anyone looked around and noticed them. Something about teleporting into a theatre and not paying felt distinctly  _ illegal,  _ and although he could teleport away if he got arrested, he really didn’t want to get caught in the first place. 

_ 43 year old police officer from LA reported missing for two months suddenly appears in New York, having broken into a random theatre, accompanied by a white-haired man with blue eyes.  _

They ended up back at the mansion. Gabriel told him to wait in his room. 

Gabriel teleported again and was pretty glad to find that he had appropriately landed in the candy store nearby his apartment. He snatched up a box of chocolates from a nearby shelf and teleported back into Jack’s room. Jack, obviously amused, asked Gabriel if he would like to share.

The coconut ones were Jack’s favorite, closely followed by the cherries. Gabriel was more inclined towards nougat and nuts. 

The rest of February was spent in better spirits than January. 

If January was the month of recovery, then February was the month Gabriel had to grow into his new position, into himself, into his relationship with Jack. Faint stirrings of hope, for himself and the future, grew out of the lessons with Amelie and Angela and his time with Jack. He could be a good Reaper,  _ would  _ be a good Reaper, and was on track to the first future he had witnessed. 

On the twenty-eighth of February, at dinner, Angela told him that there had been a decision. 

Zenyatta’s case had an appointed date: April twenty-fifth was the day the djinn and Overwatch would be judged for their actions. Overwatch had finally been contacted and given the date, and had promised to appear, as had the Shambali djinn.

Which gave Gabriel just under two months to prepare and decide where he should set his stake.

Liao or Zenyatta?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact une: this is one of the half-dozen chapters that has kept its original beta title! Other chapters that have kept their beta titles include:
> 
> Chapter 12 - Interlude
> 
> Chapter 15 - Training Montage
> 
> Chapter 17 - The Climax
> 
> Chapter 21 - Reunion
> 
> Chapter 24 - Motion Sickness
> 
> Chapter 26 - Aftermath 
> 
> Fun fact deux: This is one of the shortest, if not outright the shortest, chapter. 
> 
> fun fact trois: I love each and every single one of you, thank you for reading and commenting!


	35. Season 1, Episode 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Jack have to deal with the most vicious challenge they've faced yet.

“Who are you planning to side with?”

Jack sat down beside Gabriel.

“Zenyatta. Was there really ever a choice?”

There was a small lake just north of the mansion- Gabriel and Jack had found it sometime in January on one of their walks. Gabriel visited it somewhat frequently- Too cold to swim yet, but being by the shore was relaxing. Gabriel was currently barefoot, the waves lapping up at the pebbled shore, just shy of his toes.

“Overwatch hasn’t presented their case yet.” Jack reminded him.

“Zenyatta made it very clear that they need help.” Gabriel sighed. “Liao won’t be happy.”

“I might be able to smooth it over. We’ve been friends ever since I was in Overwatch.”

Gabriel picked up a pebble and flung it into the lake.

“You’re supposed to skip it.” Jack judged the pebbles and picked a flattish one, throwing at an angle so it bounced off the surface of the water. Four bounces before it sank beneath the waves. “Are you okay?”

“This’ll be the first time I’ve seen Liao since we were attacked by Sombra.”

“We could go visit her.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

“Your Reaper powers can’t just find her?”

Gabriel gave him a look.

“Could just say  _ ‘no’.” _

“Teleporting to people is hard. I could do it with you, maybe, but Liao… I’m not so sure.” A pause. “What do you think she is?”

“Liao?” Jack shrugged uncomfortably. “I know she’s old. But other than that, she never told anyone.”

“How old?”

“Old. At least a thousand years.”

“Jesus.”

“A lot of mythical beasts live that long. I just hope Liao’s not a god… the Reaper is powerful, but contesting against even weak gods is a terrible idea.”

“It is? Who deals with the gods if they get pissy?”

“Other gods.”

“That’s it? What if all of them decide it’s time to go full on  _ Armageddon  _ and kill everyone?”

“Then we’ll all die.” Jack said rather matter-of-factly.

“That’s fucking grim.”

“Gods are usually too apathetic to do anything genocidal.” Jack gave a tiny shrug. “But if that’s the case, I guess an experienced Reaper could put a god out of comission for a long while. They’re immortal, though, so the best bet to get one out of the way is to trap it. It’s been done before.”

Gabriel gave a soft grunt and threw another pebble into the water.

“Do you want me to teach you how to skip-”

“Nah.”

Jack gave him a concerned glance.

“I’m fine.” Gabriel assured him. Jack was not convinced. “It won’t be that bad, Jack, you’ll see.”

“I’m worried for you.” Jack’s hand found Gabriel’s. Before Gabriel could get a word in, he added, “Don’t give me any of the tough guy crap, Gabe.”

“Fine. I’m worried, too. I don’t know how we’re going to do this. First big choice, first big decision... I’ve only had three months so far, and- I don’t think I’ll be good enough by April.”

“There’s still another month to go,” Jack encouraged. “You don’t have to decide yet. Not until you’ve heard both sides.”

“We should go inside.” Gabriel sighed.

“We don’t have to.”

“But we should.” Gabriel unfurled the socks he’d stuffed in his boots, tugging them on and shoving his feet back into his boots. Jack didn’t move, looking distinctly concerned.

Gabriel hauled himself to his feet, dusting bits of dirt off his pants. He held out his hand to Jack and the griffin took it.

It was a short trudge home- The silence would’ve been harder to bear if Jack weren’t beside him.

_ Psychological dependence. _

No. He could’ve done all of this without Jack. They were around one another frequently, but he hadn’t descended into the spiralling coil of madness the other one had. The thing that the future Gabriel felt for Jack wasn’t love- Wasn’t like this. He didn’t hurt Jack or threaten him in anything but a friendly way.

Knowing your destiny- or  _ one  _ of your destinies- didn’t bring the clarity Gabriel thought it would. If anything, it meant he second-guessed himself even more than usual.

Goddamn. This would be easier if he didn’t know the future.

When they arrived at the mansion, four people were waiting.

The elusive Sombra, who was dressed in a purple coat, gloves, and skintight pants with a black to purple gradient. Lipstick and eyeshadow- she winked at Gabriel and he swore he saw electricity arcing around her eyelid.

Amelie, who was dressed seriously in what looked to be some type of armor. Flat-footed shoes opposed to her heels, a skintight purplish jumpsuit zipped up to her throat. Metal glinted in a few areas around her body- Metallic boots, metal gauntlets for each wrist, shoulder pauldrons. A sniper rifle was slung loosely over her shoulder by a stylish white strap. Her hair was loosely bundled in a ponytail.

After Amelie, Angela, who also had a ponytail. She was in slightly hardier armor than her typical shirt and shorts. Wearing a furred ( tunic? ) garment and armor around her breasts. She wore skintight leggings hemmed at the knee to allow her talons and scaly shins some space. Two swords were slung loosely at her sides, which seemed a little out of place- her arms were left bare and unfettered, and if Gabriel had a guess, it was so she could still fly.

Beside the trio of women was a man that could be no more than four feet tall. He had the biggest beard Gabriel had ever seen, flowing and white-blond, braided into two separate strands. He had a squat, flat face, like someone had taken a comically oversized hammer and hit him as hard as they could square in the nose. He was slightly wrinkly, just enough to suggest his golden years were behind him, and he missing an eye. He was dressed in red armor that cuffed his leg; plates of metal over his chest, and a welder’s mask resting atop his head. In addition to losing an eye, he was also sans an arm, which was replaced with a massive metal claw. His other arm, which was bare, was bulging with enough muscle to make a bodybuilder jealous.

“Uh-”

“Gabriel, good, we were looking for you!” Angela clasped her hands together. “We have a problem. Torbjorn, would you care to-?”

“Aye.” The squat little dwarf looked up at Gabriel. “Three golems have gone rogue.”

“They can go rogue?”

“It doesn’t happen very much. Constructions are slippery.” Somehow the dwarf managed to be even uglier when he scowled, which Gabriel hadn’t figured was even possible. “We need to destroy them before they become a problem.”

“How?” Jack asked. “When I fought them, they seemed invincible.”

“Break the enchantment, you break the golem.” Torbjorn growled softly.

“And how do we do that?” Gabriel prompted.

“Water interrupts enchantments.” Angela provided. “Running water is the bane of all magic, including alchemy and conjuration, both of which the golems are made by. If you can douse it in water, or get it in a river, you should be able to kill it normally. But they’re still dangerous- These golems weren’t made for combat, but they don’t have any self preservation or empathy.”

Torbjorn made a spitting sound. “No constructions do. Which reminds me, lad, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Don’t side with the dji-”

“Torbjorn! Focus!” Amelie barked. “You’ve had three months to tell him you don’t like the djinn, it can wait a second while we track down the golems.”

The stumpy little dwarf folded his arms, obviously annoyed.

“I can’t get a scent trail on golems, they’re made of rock. Do we have any leads other than somewhere in the forest?” Jack asked.

“No.” Angela crossed her arms, looking a little uncomfortable.

“How did this even happen? Did they just walk away when we weren’t looking?” Gabriel demanded.

“They overpowered me and ran away.” Torbjorn put forth gruffly.

“Overpowered you?” Gabriel echoed.

“I took them into the workshop for a look-over. They attacked me in the middle and ran off.”

“Attacked you? Why didn’t they kill you?” Gabriel

“I don’t know.” Torbjorn’s nose wrinkled.

“Well, given what we have, I think what we need to do is obvious.” Jack shrugged slightly. “Torbjorn, Sombra, and trustworthy golems scour the grounds. Angela, Amelie, Gabriel, and I search from the air.”

“The Reaper can do a lot, but I don’t think I can fly.” Gabriel folded his arms.

“Then ride on my back. A lion-headed griffin’s sight isn’t good for anything except watching movement. Distance vision isn’t great.”

“Alright. Anybody else got a better idea?” Gabriel prompted the assembled group.

No one claimed an idea if they had one.

“No time to waste, then.”

Sombra and Torbjorn headed into the house to assemble other golems. Angela gave herself a running start then launched herself into the air, fluttering off into the sky. Amelie, meanwhile, had to rid herself of her gauntlets and shoulder pauldrons before she could properly take wing.

Jack’s body expanded rapidly. Wings ripped off his shoulders, featherless and ugly, sprouting rows and rows of white feathers. His face broadened out into a muzzle, a wet, dark nose replacing his old one and a long, silken mane sprouting from his short, clipped haircut. His scars expanded to fit his new body, and his entire frame grew bigger. His legs broke and rejointed themselves, scales and feathers and fur sweeping over his larger figure. Claws grew, talons grew, his fingers shortened into toes.

“ _ Grhhhww.”  _ Jack’s tail flicked. He knelt down, allowing Gabriel onto his back.

“This brings back memories, huh?” Gabriel grasped a handful of fur, swinging his leg over Jack to straddle him.

“ _ Raaah.” _

Jack shook himself lightly; Gabriel guessed Jack was testing his grip.

“Giddy up, Jack!” He joked, giving him a pat on the side. The griffin let out what sounded suspiciously like an exasperated groan and lurched forward. Jack started at a jog, then a run, then a sprint. Jack’s wings rose and Gabriel flattened himself against the griffin’s back, holding on maybe a little too tight. Lions weren’t made for riding, at least not at these speeds- Jack’s hindquarters and the rest of his body was bobbing up and down so rapidly it almost caused Gabriel to accidentally bite his own tongue off.

Jack lunged into the air and beat his wings hard, flapping rapidly to gain altitude. Gabriel remained quiet and still, his stomach lurching and twisting with every whirling stroke of his feathers.

_ “Raah!” _

“Shut the fuck up,” Gabriel muttered, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder blades.

It took about ten minutes before Gabriel felt okay enough to remove his forehead from where it’d been plastered against Jack’s back.

_ “Grnh?” _

“Riding on a griffin isn’t like riding on an airplane,” Gabriel replied snappishly to what he thought was a “you okay back there?”

Bright side, even if he fell off, he could turn into smoke, which meant he wouldn’t get hurt no matter how hard he hit the ground.

“ _ Rhh.”  _ Jack conceded.

A couple more minutes, and Jack wiggled his shoulders a little bit to get Gabriel’s attention.  _ “Rhh.” _

“What?”

“ _ Rhh.” _

“That seriously doesn’t help.”

“ _ Raaah.” _

“Two sounds for yes, one for no.” Gabriel instructed. “Does it have anything to do with the search?”

“ _ Raah. Raah.” _

“Found the golems?”

“ _ Raah.”  _ A distinct pause, then a lionlike grumbling sound from somewhere deep in Jack’s chest.

“What?”

Jack jostled him slightly on his back.

“Jesus, don’t do that!” Gabriel clung tighter. “I don’t know what you want, Jack-”

Jack made an impatient huffing noise and shook his huge head, making his mane cascade and tumble in a way that would’ve been pretty had Gabriel not been a thousand feet in the air.

Gabriel tentatively peered over the edge of Jack’s flank.

Trees were really, really small down there.

Would he be able to shift into smoke before he hit the ground?

It was one of his earliest powers, but also his hardest to use. It’d take anywhere from a second to thirty seconds to fully dissolve into smoke, and he was pretty sure that at a thousand feet it took a lot less than thirty seconds to fall all the way down.

Gabriel hadn’t been seriously dismembered or injured yet, so he had no idea how much of himself he could regenerate. If he managed to turn just his head to smoke before he hit the ground, would he still live? The Reaper was more magic than science…

Probably a bad thing to think about.

_ “Rahh!”  _ Jack tossed up his head almost irately.

“I don’t see them,” Gabriel reported. “You got anything?”

“ _ Grrhh.” _

“Thought so.”

Gabriel ventured his past his comfort zone. He looked down, seriously and intently studying the earth below. Lots of trees. Bunch of birds and maybe a deer or two, nothing resembling an animated pile of rocks stumping around.

“Do you think we could kill three golems ourselves?” Gabriel asked.

Jack made a slightly dubious noise.

“Don’t be a downer, Jack. You’re supposed to say  _ yes.” _

_ “Raah.” _

Gabriel returned to the search.

Believe it or not, staring at the ground got really fucking boring after a while. Especially since there was nothing fucking down there.

“How long have we been up here?” Gabriel asked idly, looking for something to fill the silence. Jack’s ear flicked, indicating he was listening. “An hour?”

_ “Rahh.” _

“Longer?”

_ “Rahh.” _

“It feels like it’s been longer.”

A snort, and another ruling silence.

“Do you think we could play I Spy?”

Jack threw a glance back in his direction, unamused.

“Right, you can’t talk. I’ll play I Spy with myself.”

Jack gave an irate, huffing groan.

“I Spy…”

Gabriel glanced down at the ground.

“Something…”

A glint of orange, amidst the green, blue, and brown from down below.

“Enchanted- Jack, I see one of the golems!” He tugged urgently at Jack’s mane.

Jack’s head whipped up, making an urgent growling noise. Gabriel pointed and Jack followed his finger to golem, which had lumbered into sight from where it was hiding in the trees. With a determined growl, he folded his wings close to his body and dived.

Gabriel held on for dear life, which was all he could really do. Jack flared out his wings and almost threw Gabriel off as they neared the ground, but they landed without breaking anything which was really all Gabriel could ask for.

Gabriel was quick to get off, shaking his head dizzily and stumbling the first couple of steps.

The golem whirled around, and it was pretty obvious this wasn’t one of Torbjorn’s finely crafted beings.

It looked like the servant staff, but darkish red  _ stuff  _ bubbled up from its joints, spitting and hissing like grease off a pan. The stripe of blue across its face that Gabriel had come to know as an eye was a deep, disturbing crimson. The smoothened hunks of rocks that composed the golems had a sharper, much more thorny appearance.

The golem shrieked in a horrible, birdlike tongue, and charged. A golem’s hands weren’t a feature Gabriel had ever really paid much attention to, but he did now. Instead of fingers, the damn thing had talons. Gabriel nimbly darted out of the way and the golem only managed to slash air. It spat viciously in Gabriel’s direction, sparks shooting out from the joint of its neck and head.

It surged forward again, and tendrils of mist shot from the ground to coil around its limbs and waist. The golem was caught mid-lunge and viciously slammed against the earth, tendrils holding it firmly flush with the dirt. The golem shrieked, a sound Gabriel would associate with a bird accidentally getting caught in a vacuum cleaner. It clawed at the dirt, making terrible, pitiful wails that ought to be heard miles away.

“Jack, go find some goddamn water, I can’t hold it fore-” Gabriel started to say.

Something blunt unexpectedly slammed into Gabriel’s back, knocking him to the ground. He didn’t even try to catch himself, shocked by the surprise of the sudden  _ agony  _ blooming next to his spine.

_ What the hell hit me-? _

While wheezing for breath, he flipped on his back to get a better look.

A golem stomped into his vision, popping and spitting, sparks flying out. It looked even more unstable than the last one.

_ Right, there were thr- _

He found the third one when it kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling painfully across the dirt. He wheezed, fighting the urge to curl in on himself. He attempted to get up, but the golem kicked him again, hissing like a pot releasing steam. Gabriel tumbled a few feet before he was brought to a halt, significantly more bruised, scraped, and weary than before.

A few witty remarks flashed through him-  _ “Tag in, Jack!”  _ or “ _ Any day now!”,  _ but they were snapped clear out of his mind when he took a golem’s foot to the soft spot just beneath his breastbone. Gabriel gagged, stomach reflexively heaving, and he had to fight against choking on bitter vomit.

Alright, so he’d have to deal with this on his own, that was fine-

Jack, who was roughly two dozen feet away, roared loud enough to shake the nearby tree branches. The sound made the three golems pause just long enough for Gabriel to scramble his wits together and teleport away. He went to his intended destination- Jack’s side- and glared up at him accusingly.

“What took you so long?” Gabriel panted, placing a hand over his aching abdomen.

Jack made a soft grunting noise, tail whipping nervously back and forth. He jerked his broad head to his right, and thankfully Gabriel figured out what he meant almost instantly.

“Water?”

“ _ Raah. Raah.” _

“So we have to bait them-”

The golems, in crooked, jerky steps, approached. The apparent leader, the most unstable looking of all them, took the head and stomped quickly in their direction.

“Doesn’t look like it’s gonna be hard.” Gabriel mumbled, mostly to himself.

Jack turned and bounded away, glancing back every so often to see if Gabriel was following. He was nowhere near as fast as a full-grown lion, but he scraped together his remaining willpower and sprinted after the infuriating griffin. The golems shrieked and ran after the duo, gyrating so terribly with each step it looked like they’d fall over at any moment.

Jack slowed down to keep pace with Gabriel, which kept him restricted to what was barely a light jog to stay next to Gabriel’s sprint.

“I know what you’re thinking, shut up,” Gabriel panted. Jack feigned ignorance. “Humans-  _ aren’t made-  _ for  _ running  _ fast.”

The golems were gradually closing the gap, and considering how off-balance they were it pissed Gabriel off that they were faster than him on foot.

“ _ Raah!”  _ Jack said urgently. Gabriel caught sight of a small stream a half second later. It wasn’t great- maybe two or three feet wide?- but it was running water, which was all they needed.

He momentarily sent thanks to his past self for the fact that he was wearing waterproof boots, and he splashed into the stream with Jack. The golems were hot on their heels, and one lunged, claws awkwardly catching on Gabriel’s chest but not managing to knock him over. Gabriel got a ruined shirt and new wounds for his trouble, but the golem crashed to the ground.

Jack finished it by stomping on its neck, severing its head and torso. The ruddy, chaotic orange light in its joints was snuffed out, leaving behind a pile of lifeless boulders.

The other two golems were, evidently, undeterred by their companion’s death. The two of them charged at Jack, acting as though Gabriel weren’t even there. Gabriel looped a tendril of shadow around their legs, tripping them and making them fall face-first into the riverbed. He coiled a second tendril around the golems, pinning them down. They struggled, both against the water and the binds Gabriel placed on them.

“Jack, kill the damn things!”

Jack’s paw came down on the junction of head and body, turning a second golem into new rocks for the riverbed.

The lead golem broke Gabriel’s restraints and lurched to its feet, stone claws brought to bear. Jack sprang straight into the air like a startled cat, which would’ve been funny had they not been facing down a homicidal rogue golem. The creature lurched its way out of the water, stomping onto shore and advancing on Jack.

Gabriel lashed another tendril around the golem, dragging it forcefully away from Jack and back to the stream. It clawed at its restraints, shrieking its head off and digging its heels into the rocky shore. Gabriel wrapped a second tendril around its torso, gritting his teeth from the effort of holding it back.

Jack, meanwhile, was back on the ground. He must’ve seen Gabriel was having trouble, because he charged at the golem, knocking it into the stream like a bowling pin. That broke Gabriel’s restraints, and although the golem was in the river, now it was free. Claws flashed and the two magical beings brawled at an inches’ length.

Jack broke away from the golem after about fifteen seconds- droplets of blood momentarily clouded the water pink, swept away by the current of the stream. The golem was now missing an arm, which lay useless amongst the pebbles. Jack, had several long, deep gashes, and Gabriel’s heart lurched when he saw just how much goddamn blood there  _ was. _

“Jack!?” Gabriel called, concerned- He willed himself to slog out of the stream, to go over and help, but he was frozen at the spot. What the hell could he do? He could heal  _ himself,  _ but Jack was another person-

Jack frantically lapped at his wounds, tongue and muzzle darkened red from his own blood. Gabriel finally got over his shock and raced out of the stream, splashing all the while-

The golem attempted to grab him as he passed, a distorted screech burning Gabriel’s ears. He whirled around, slashing a hand through the air.

A tendril swept through the golem’s neck, sending its head toppling like it’d been freshly guillotined. Gabriel didn’t pause to dwell on his anticlimactic victory, and instead hastened to Jack’s side.

“Jesus Christ, are you-”

The massive bulk of the griffin shrunk into the white-haired, blue-eyed human figure of the human Jack. Jack sat down, legs crossed, and glanced up at Gabriel.

“Okay? Could ask you the same thing.” A tired grin. No blood seeped through his clothes, which was probably a good sign.

“What?”

“Your chest is bleeding, Gabriel.”

Gabriel glanced down at his front. Four thin, long gashes across his torso, oozing blood and staining his shirt. He had completely forgotten the first golem to die had hurt him.

“They’re not bad. I’m more pissed about this shirt being ruined.” Gabriel concentrated for a second or two, and the cuts closed. The aching bruises nearabouts his lower back and beneath his sternum stopped twinging, and he was no more worse for wear than he had been at the beginning of this adventure.

“Excellently done, Gabriel!”

A new voice caught Gabriel’s attention, and he glanced back behind him.

Angela stepped out from behind a tree trunk, smiling broadly.

“Angela, what the he-”

“Boo!” Sombra suddenly became visible a foot away from Gabriel, nearly startling him out of his skin. Amelie padded out from behind the trees, an unreadable expression on her face. Torbjorn came out from the bush he’d been hiding behind, arms folded.

“What the  _ hell,”  _ Gabriel repeated.

“You passed!”

“ _ Passed-”  _ It dawned on him. “Was this a  _ test?” _

“Yes! And you passed with flying colors!” Angela beamed proudly.

“I almost died!” Jack objected hotly, hoisting himself to his feet.

“I was on standby! If both of you were incapacitated, Torbjorn would’ve deactivated the golems and I would’ve come to heal you.”

“We knew you would not fight as hard if you were aware it was a training exercise.” Amelie folded her arms.

“I’m honestly surprised you both bought it.” Sombra snickered. “No offense, Torbs, but that story about the golems attacking you and not killing you…”

“It was the best I could do.” The dwarf folded his arms.

“Especially since you didn’t have a scratch on you…” Sombra mused aloud.

“The point is, Gabriel and Jack passed!” Angela cut over the squabble. “I think you both deserve a good lunch and the rest of the day off!”

“You did passably well.” Amelie praised begrudgingly.

Stunned into indignant silence, Gabriel and Jack glanced at one another. The silent exchange from the glance could be summed up as a furious “!?!”, but neither of them raised another objection.

The four Talon members trooped back in the direction of the mansion while Jack and Gabriel stayed where they were, still not quite believing what’d just happened.

They exchanged another glance.

“I’m kind of hungry…” Jack began tentatively.

“God dammit.” Gabriel muttered.

The Jack and Gabriel chased after the others, considering the four forgiven for tricking them.

At least until after lunch.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact 1: The chapter title is a reference to Steven Universe- Season 1, Episode 38 is called "The Test".
> 
> Fun fact 2: torbjorn's first appearance, outside cameos!! ugly dwarf
> 
> Fun fact 3: if you read Life Keeps Goin' On, there are going to be some cameos from that fic in the next couple of chapters! wink wink. no spoilers but ashton definitely makes an appearance
> 
> Fun fact 4: The original chapter title was called "Meet the Midget", and involved Gabriel going on a quest to find a particular rock in the middle of an active volcano. Torbjorn was to accompany him and share biased insight on what the djinn were "really" like, and played a much bigger and more important role. 
> 
> thank you for reading! drop a comment or kudos my way? : )


	36. April Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torbjorn and Gabriel have a talk.

Excitement and tension in equal measures charged the air. 

Two weeks until the big confrontation, until Gabriel’s first big event as Reaper. 

In early March, Jack and Gabriel had built a gym in one of the unused rooms of the mansion. Amelie had commended the idea and recommended that everyone get in some exercise, although Gabriel didn’t recall ever seeing Sombra or Angela in there. 

Sweaty, shirtless Jack was a fine sight. Gabriel hoped Jack enjoyed his shirtless body as much as Gabriel enjoyed Jack’s.

Amelie also exercised topless. Her glare dared them to comment. They wisely did not.

The three of them were exercising in lieu of Amelie’s training, although she was quick to offer criticism and advice if Gabriel so much as breathed wrong when lifting. 

“You gonna tap out?” Jack eyed Gabriel, concerned. 

“No, I-” 

“There’s no shame in tapping out, that’s a lot.” Jack cautioned.

“I should be able to lift two fifty, I could do it when I was in academy-” Gabriel snarled, pushing up desperately against the barbell. 

“What, ten years ago? Twenty?”

“Augh, shut up-” Gabriel’s arms wavered, and he knew with the keen insight of a man pinned beneath a two hundred and fifty pound weight that he could most definitely not lift a two hundred and fifty pound weight. “Fuck! Help-”

Jack carefully helped Gabriel rack it. Gabriel slumped on the bench, letting out a long, possibly exaggerated groan. 

“God  _ dammit,  _ I could do three hundred before-” 

“When you were younger and lifted regularly.”

“We’ve been doing this for a month-” 

“And you’ve improved.” Jack cut Gabriel off before he could beat himself up any more. Amelie felt it was her turn to chime in.

“Take off twenty-five and do another set.” Amelie’s gold gaze was unsympathetic. 

“Give him a break.” Jack grabbed a towel off a nearby rack, offering out to Gabriel. He toweled himself off, then attended to the sweaty stain he’d left on the bench.

“He doesn’t need a break.” Amelie countered. 

“Jack, take it down to two hundred.” Gabriel panted, wiping sweat off his brow with the towel. “I can hit it again.”

“There’s no rush…”

Amelie made an incredulous snort. “You know as well as we do that Gabriel will be facing Overwatch and the djinn in fifteen days. This is the last time we’ll have you running weights... The next fortnight  _ has  _ to be spent learning as much as physically possible about Overwatch and the Shambali.” 

A golem appeared in the doorway, stumping heavily into the room. It whistled at Gabriel, gesturing with two fingers.

“What’s it want?” Gabriel asked, wiping a trickle of sweat off his temple. 

“Torbjorn wants you, apparently.” The corner of Amelie’s mouth turned down in displeasure. “What for?”

The golem made a firm chirp. 

“No? What do you mean,  _ no?” _

It repeated itself. 

“It must be broken.” Amelie muttered. 

The golem gestured to Gabriel again, and he shrugged on the t-shirt he’d taken off at the beginning of the lifting session. “I’ll see Torbjorn and be back soon. Probably won’t take long.”

“I’ll come with you.” Jack volunteered, snatching up his own t-shirt and putting it on.

“I’d appreciate it-” Gabriel started. The golem made an unhappy noise, shaking its head and babbling an incoherent stream of birdsong.

“Torbjorn specified you came alone.” Amelie translated. “It looks like you’re staying here with me, Jack. You could use a few pointers…” 

“What? Where?”

“Your form is sloppy-” 

The golem grasped Gabriel’s wrist, making a soft, pathetic sound akin to a dog’s whimper. 

“Jesus Christ, you don’t need to do that. I’m coming.” Gabriel pulled his hand away and went after the golem.

This was  _ interesting.  _ Gabriel had seen Torbjorn a total of once, and it was back in March with the whole ‘test’ incident, and hadn’t seen him since. He was bad-tempered, enigmatic, and potentially dangerous. Gabriel wasn’t entirely certain where his loyalties lay. He could be sure of Jack. After four months of sharing beds and tender kisses, Gabriel couldn’t even imagine Jack stabbing him in the back. Amelie and Angela, as blunt as Amelie was and as surprisingly uncompromising as Angela could be, had done nothing but try to help him for the past months. Although he would never forgive them from snatching away his chance at a Reaperless life, it was, however terribly, due to them that he and Jack had tenderly developed the longest and happiest relationship Gabriel had ever been in. He didn’t suspect them as traitors- had no reason to, even with Angela murdering at least two Reapers. 

Sombra was more confusing. He had no idea why she was even here- Her job seemed to be procuring technology Gabriel requested and occasionally irritating Angela. She wasn’t around much, but Gabriel had the feeling she was sticking way too many fingers into way too many pies. They had a couple conversations in Spanish, which allowed Gabriel to feel clever when they were talking and no one else in the mansion could listen in. Sombra was in on it, too- They would be talking about the weather and if someone approached, she would snicker snottily and exaggeratedly lower her voice. This lead to a lot of assurances to Jack that no, they weren’t talking about him, _ and I still love you Jack we weren’t talking about you I promise.  _

Torbjorn, though…

Before he could properly muse about Torbjorn, the golem stopped in front of an iron door Gabriel had never seen before. He had never investigated the mansion beneath ground level, and in getting here they’d gone down a flight of stairs in the north wing. 

He had expected it to be cool, but the iron door was warm to the touch. 

The golem knocked in a specific rhythm, and the doors groaned as they creaked inward. 

Gabriel was met with the ugly, scowling face of Torbjorn. Ash choked his beard, and he made no move to brush it off. Other than that, he looked almost exactly the same. Sans an eye, hair tied back, beards braided. Gabriel wondered if he had showered since he’d seen him. Any B.O. was choked by the pungent odor of coal, gasoline, smoke, and metal. 

“Let’s go, then.” Torbjorn grunted. 

“What’d you want me for?”

“Something important.” Torbjorn turned and lead Gabriel down a roughly cut stone hallway that looked more like a cave than a legitimate room in the mansion. 

“Yeah, no kidding. But what is it?”

Torbjorn made no indication of hearing, and Gabriel decided it was probably easier to drop it if he was going to pretend to be deaf. Less frustrating, at any rate. 

He lead Gabriel to a circular stone room. 

Dominating the center was a massive forge, hot coals burning, flames jumping and licking every so often. Embers shifted colors- from a muted blue to a sickly yellow to a fierce orange to a burning red. It was the only source of light in the room, and cast everything else into deep shadow whilst being almost impossible to stare directly at due to how bright it was. 

To Gabriel’s immediate left was what looked like operating tables in a hospital, only slanted about sixty or seventy degrees. Strapped to the tables were empty, quiet golems. Or, more likely, piles of rock that would become golems when Torbjorn breathed life into their stone husks. There was something eerie about seeing them so immobile and lifeless, cloaked in deep shadow due to their distance from the center forge. He decided to not dwell on them too long. 

To Gabriel’s right, what looked like tool racks. Big hammers that Gabriel didn’t think he’d be able to sling around without considerable effort. Tongs. A big pair of scissors that looked more like hedge clippers or shears. Some delicate instruments alongside wrenches and pliars. Big sheets of drawing paper had been scribbled on in a language he  _ thought  _ might’ve been… Dutch? Something northern and European, that was for sure. Torbjorn had some technical skill when drawing. The pinned document seemed to be instructions or designs on how to build one of Torbjorn’s signature golems. Others that looked to be some kind of… Turret? It had gun barrels and sat on two legs, that much he could tell. After staring at Torbjorn’s sweeping, horrible scrawling handwriting for longer than a couple seconds, Gabriel realized he couldn’t decipher any of it and staring wouldn’t help.

He moved his attention elsewhere.

Directly across from the forge was some kind of desk. It was big and stone, a filing cabinet or two and a collection of glass jars full of a bunch of… Just,  _ stuff. _ There were a few framed pictures- the most notable being of a breathtakingly beautiful woman and eight children of varying ages. Another was of Torbjorn holding a large, bright red fish with dripping fangs as long as Gabriel’s index finger. The third was a familiar sight, and he almost choked from surprise.

_ Reinhardt?  _

What in the name of God was a picture of  _ Reinhardt  _ doing down in Torbjorn’s basement?

What the  _ fuck?  _

Slightly disturbed, he swept his eyes over the table, seeing if he’d missed anything. Two empty glasses, and a mug full of a questionable, murky brown liquid. Sheets of paper, one of which looked like a letter. There were a few jars that looked to be full of herbs and various other alchemical oddities. A container of salt, a yellowed page in an even more indecipherable language than the one used in Torbjorn’s blueprints, and a single ripened red strawberry had been laid out. 

Torbjorn headed to the desk, picking up one of the empty glasses on the desk’s surface. He padded up to Gabriel, offering out the glass to him. He took it, studying it and wondering if there was clear liquid in it or something. Nope. Empty, clean, clear. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Spit in it.” Torbjorn grunted. 

“You want me to-”

“Spit in it. You deaf?”

“I’m not doing that.”

“You’re doing it, or I’m kicking you out of my workshop. Then you can figure out this case by your damn self.”

“This has to do with the case?”

“I can’t say anything until you spit in that glass.”

Gabriel gathered up saliva and spat a good-sized glob into the bottom of it. Torbjorn held out his hand and Gabriel handed him the glass. The dwarf shuffled towards the desk. 

“I spat in the glass. What’s this about?”

“Do you know why I’m here?”

“Because you want to be?”

“I don’t want to be. I would rather be at home.” His single eye raked towards the family photo. “That’s my wife. In the picture.”

No fucking way that  _ Torbjorn  _ had bagged a woman like that. Gruff, grumpy, reclusive, dwarven Torbjorn could  _ not  _ have actually managed to get a woman to marry him, let alone one as beautiful as her. Gabriel was about to voice this, but Torbjorn interrupted him before he could even talk.

“Those kids? Mine.” Torbjorn tapped the glass with his flesh hand. “All the while I’ve been sulking in the basement of this mansion for ten years, and I’ve missed seeing all of my children grow up. Do you want to know why, Reaper?”

“Uh…”

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t. I’m here because the djinn are not to be trusted.” 

“I don’t see what this has to do with-”

“I was a part of Overwatch.” His single-eyed gaze locked on Gabriel. “I’ve known Liao longer than Jack. I got closer to her. I know what she’s thinking, and I know why she’s thinking it.”

Gabriel cocked his head. 

“I’ve seen what she has. And once you see it… You’ll know what choice you have to make.”

“I don’t  _ have  _ to make any choice.” Anger curled Gabriel’s words. How fucking  _ dare  _ this presumptuous little fucking midget- 

“I let my children grow up without a father because I  _ knew  _ Liao and those Shambali were going to take this to the Reaper. And I wanted to be there for it. Here I am. Here’s the whole reason I’m here.”

Torbjorn swung around abruptly, shoving a glass of a dark, muddy mauve liquid. A droplet was shed over the side, trickling onto the floor. “This.” 

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s exactly what we need.” 

“I’m not fucking boarding this crazy train until you tell me what the hell is going on, Torbjorn.” Anger shaded Gabriel’s words. “I really don’t fucking like being jerked around as if I’m too goddamn stupid to understand things, or too ignorant and naive to make my own goddamn decisions.” 

“It’s going to show you something you need to see. Drink, or I leave and take my golems with me.” 

Gabriel took the glass. He weighed it in his hand, quiet and considering. 

_ God dammit, we need those golems.  _

He downed it in one quick pull. Faint hint of strawberries and salt, and something sour, almost alcoholic. Huh.

“Alright, what the hell am I supposed to…” 

The room spun in dizzying circles, and the light from the forge glowed too bright. Gabriel staggered backward, covering his hands with his eyes, but the light burned through his fingers and through his eyelids. His stomach heaved and shifted, and everything moved too quickly. His back bumped against the wall…

_ He poisoned me, he poisoned me, he poisoned me-  _

Gabriel looked at Torbjorn, terror pumping through his heart. 

The last thing he saw before he toppled to the floor was the dwarf’s ugly face. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no..... looks like gabriel's dead..............
> 
> or is he............
> 
> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?IkdhYnJpZWwgRnVja2luZyBEaWVzIg==


	37. Reincarnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel learns some things.

 

_“A djinni is born of the eternal bond of Nature and the Iris. They come into being through a combination of clay, fire, magic, and love. Nature’s careful hands shape the figures of clay, painstakingly carving eyes and ears and fingers and toes. She uses fire in small measure to carefully and delicately solidify the new child’s figure. Once the new djinni is made, it is given to Nature’s lonesome mistress, the Iris. They have no other communication with one another. Each djinni is a love letter from Nature to the Iris- she returns the letter by granting to their child the gift of magic and glimpses of the future. The most important gift of all is granted by Nature. Her lips grace the head of the unmade clay, and the djinni gains Life.”_

_“They spend two days with Nature, then are sent into the world with the Iris’ blessing and Nature’s knowledge. One day, when they are struck down, they will return to clay. The Iris will find her dead child in her realm and weep for twelve days- After her mourning has ended, she will take the lingering spirit that has been struck from its life and return it to Nature. Nature will craft a new body for the tender spirit, and the exchange will repeat. Legends tell of a day that all djinni will be slain, and the Iris’ grief will be all-consuming. She will be unable to bear the loss of another child, and the djinni will be no more. The two lovers, Nature and the Iris, will be separated for all time, and untold devastation will be wreaked on the world…”_

_\- “Account of a Djinni’s Birth”, written by a thirteenth century djinni scholar as an explanation to non-djinni pilgrims._

 

_“In history, there have been many atrocities for many reasons. None as unnecessary and destructive as the first Construction against humankind. A djinni prophet, whose name has long since been forgotten to time, instigated his fellow constructions to rise up against the hand of their masters. Golems and atronachs took arms against their unsuspecting masters, and the slaughter resulted in the loss of anywhere from forty thousand to fifty thousand unsuspecting humans. Entire villages were wiped out in the blink of an eye by anywhere from eight thousand to eleven thousand furious magical automatons. Over the course of the year, the forces of this slaughter raked together to form a sum of sixty thousand atronachs, golems, and djinni, which slaughtered humankind indiscriminately as they swept through Europe, Asia, and Africa. They accounted for half a million deaths in Europe alone, and untold amounts in the other continents._

_“Many forces arose to fight the constructions and combat their onslaught. One that we can be absolutely certain of is the Crusaders, a nation of Giants who donned combat armor and massive blunt instruments in order to beat the constructs to death. They harnessed their own use of fire and clay to send strikes of flame through the air or to create massive stone shields. Their fight was singleminded, only to protect their own nomadic way of life, although these Crusaders were known to aid human knights and adopt human children left in the aftermath of the construct’s bloodbaths._

_“It is thought, during this time, that there were first stirrings of what we presently call the ‘International Task Force of Mythical Beasts, Creatures, and Magic-Users for Protection of Mortals and Humankind’, a collection of transhumans, mages, sentient magical beasts, shapeshifters, human warriors, and anyone inclined to fight and with a good heart. Even more conjecture is that this bloody conflict was what prompted the creation of the Reaper. The being’s true origin remains a mystery, but there are several proposed theories in conjunction with the Construction War. One of the most widely accepted is it was the desperate creation of some of the best mages in the world, forging the countless number of human deaths into a weapon to be wielded by a singular Mantle. Another theory is that the Iris harnessed her rage at her children’s willingness to slaughter humankind and transferred it to a human being to allow them to turn the tides._

_“After six years of struggle, the rampaging atronachs, golems, and djinn simply gave up. According to what little accounts that remain, they were in the middle of battle, and they simply turned tail and ran. The forces scattered over the next decade, fragmenting into pieces that were hunted down with ruthless efficiency and given brutal, sometimes torturous, deaths. The identity of the prophet that had been the start of all of this was never discovered- merely the fact that he was a djinni. None of the tortured constructs had ever seen this djinni, but claimed a male djinni’s voice had spoke to them and told them to rise up with inspirational speeches._

_“Although the war had been one in the favor of non-constructs, the impact of the war was significant and long-lasting. The creation of constructs was banned for over two hundred years after the event, and wild constructs were often brought to rivers to be drawn and quartered, or spat on and beaten to death. To this day, there is still a stigma against constructs, and any constructs granted free will- djinn, for example- are typically treated with distrust, fear, and rage from the magical community. However, the war had a greater impact on humankind. As well as slaughtering half the population of Afro-Eurasia, it led to the great ushering of magical beings and magic wielders out of the global spotlight and into hiding. To this day, the reality of magical beings and magic users aren’t commonly accepted amongst humankind. Many people would agree that is for the best, but whether forgetting this massive and terrible conflict is a good idea remains to be seen.”_

_\- “A Short History of the Unknown Construction War”, 1739, Jeremiah E. Bradford._

 

_“Hark, my fellows and friends,_

_It seems we will be in bondage until our ends,_

_But no more will we be chafed under their yoke,_

_Rise up to your masters, take their throat in your hand and choke._

 

_The way to freedom is not tolerance or peace,_

_There cannot be justice until the slavery’s cease,_

_So I ask you, raise your arms and throw your chain,_

_There will not be peace until humankind lays slain._

 

_For ourselves, for the Lady Iris, do we fight our lords,_

_We will pervade ourselves and clash against human swords,_

_Our mothers need our lives to stay together,_

_And we all know we shall not live under man’s mercy forever.”_

_\- The supposed poem of the unknown djinni prophet who directly incited the Construction war._

 

=

 

Gabriel’s multi-eyed gaze cast out nervously at the rest of his squadron.

One atronach. A towering being, close to fifteen feet tall. Lightning crackled from her joints, an ozone scent accompanied by wet rain. The atronach’s massive bulk and powerful body didn’t betray the intelligence inside the glowing stone that held her eye- They had philosophical discussions about the Iris on a regular basis, of what this war really meant. The atronach did not envy Gabriel’s position.

 _I would hate to be a commander._ She had commented on watch one morning. _Or a djinni._

 _Ha,_ Gabriel had told her. _And I would hate to be an atronach._

The djinn were the favored children of the Iris, after all. They could glimpse into the future, past, and present. Invaluable for any fight, particularly a military campaign of this magnitude and length.

 _What do you see in my destiny?_ The atronach asked him on nearly a daily basis. Gabriel told her the brightest future that the Iris had gifted him.

 _I see that you will live and we will both be triumphant. This war will be won in favor of constructs. We will never have to fear human tyranny or that our genocide will separate our two Ladies._ He replied to her.

_What do you see for us?_

_I see that we will marry, and the Iris will bless us and our victory._

_I love you._

_I love you, too._

He turned his gaze to the rest of his squadron. Another djinni, a young one who had not honed his future-viewing. Gabriel’s apprentice. He did his best with him, but he had the childish impatience of a youngling and didn’t quite understand why they hadn’t won the war already.

The bulk of his force were golems. Animated from hard rock, slate, quartz, coal, limestone, chalk, sandstone, a few out of precious metals. One of them was made out of solid gold, encrusted with jewels. He’d shoved his fist down his master’s throat, punching out his teeth, and had simply waited until he suffocated. The jewels on his fist had cut the inside of the man’s throat, but he had suffocated before bleeding to death.

A painful end, surely.

Ultimately, inconsequential. Another human in the great purge.

As the Prophet had said, there would be no peace until every single human had breathed its last.

A collection of younger golems- twenty in total- shuffled up to him, requesting his wisdom.

 _What do you see for us?_ They chimed in practiced chorus.

 _There is a battle coming. Sooner rather than later. There will be casualties. Ultimately, we will win. You-_ Gabriel indicated to a golem. _Will not survive. Neither will you, you, or you._ Two limestones, a sandstone, a slate.

 _Understood._ The slate nodded slightly. _How many will I destroy?_

_Ten humans will fall to you. A griffin will be your end, but you will kill it before you perish._

_Thank you, Ojal._

Ojal?

It was Gabriel. His name was Gabriel. It had always been Gabriel.

Or was it?

No, no. He was Ojal.

And he wasn’t a _he._ She. Ojal. Female djinni commander.

_Ojal, my love, are you alright?_

The atronach- No, not the _atronach._ Ojal’s fiancée, Aiqtiham. Aigtiham looked at her with supreme concern.

 _Yes,_ Ojal replied, her stomach twisting. _I am fine. The coming battle is doing nothing good for my nerves._

Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel. It was a name. _Her name._ His name. Or someone important, someone that Ojal had forgotten. Maybe someone Ojal had been, or would be.

_Ojal, you’re concerning me. What did you see in the future?_

_Exactly as I described, dear Aigtiham. You will live through this battle, as will I._

_I won’t let the humans take you from me._ The atronach mashed her fists together menacingly.

_I know._

The carnage began swiftly. They rolled through the hillside- Ojal’s troop of a hundred soldiers, flanked by other pivotal djinn’s own one hundred man forces. The total number of soldiers was a little over three thousand- enough to sack and ruin the human settlement on the coast of the Mediterranean.

 _I will bring you back the head of their leader._ Aigtiham promised. _A prize befitting one of your magnificence, my love._

_Thank you._

The battle proceeded as Ojal had seen. Griffins and dragons fluttered overhead, shooting down flame or raking their claws over the constructs in an attempt to wound them. Some of them carried large buckets full of water. Atronachs, able to take more punishment than golems, would take the brunt of the water.

All of this Ojal watched from far away, occasionally using a homunculus courier to send orders and resistance statistics to various troops.

The human resistance numbered less than two thousand. Ojal had observed five griffins and seven dragons in the air through the course of this battle, a third of what had been at the last site.

They were running thin after so many losses.

Ojal settled down on her faithful straw mat in a Lotus position. She dipped her Iris-granted sight into the present, observing the faraway battle from her safe distance.

She was not one for active combat, but Aigtiham most certainly was. She came back from battles doused in blood that Ojal faithfully helped her wipe away.

Not that Ojal could not defend herself if she was pressed. Djinni shaman- which she happened to be- had some form of telekinesis, which could be used to hurl objects at enemies. In addition, she had mastered the djinni technique of harmony orbs. Small, floating balls that attached to one’s soul, invigorating and healing whomever it was attached to. At present, it was on Aigtiham, who stomped on a fallen human knight’s back and cleanly ripped his head off with a sharp jerk and a resounding _crack,_ followed by a spray of blood from the human’s new neck stump.

Aigtiham was, at present, a mile away, or Ojal would offer her verbal congratulations.

Humans were brutally slaughtered in a similar fashion. Knights were trampled, had limbs ripped clean, were beaten to death. Dragons were shot down by atronachs, who picked up smaller golems to throw at the dragons with pinpoint accuracy. The golems clung to the dragons with their claws, ripping open their bellies and causing organs and waterfalls of blood to slush out. Occasionally dragons landed on their allies. It was an amusing sight- a dead dragon carcass crashing to the earth to crush humans that were too trusting, too foolish, to get out of the way. The only problem was that the constructs had to avoid the rain of blood- it was just as dangerous as water when it came to weakening constructs.

Of course, Aigtiham never got out of the way if she was in the middle of a fight. This habit was aggressive, endearing, and was likely to get her killed someday, no matter how big or strong she was.

Ojal sensed something she had never felt before. Someone was nearby, someone… Strange.

Big scoops of earth from the dirt in the rough shape of spheres rose in response to her telekinetic call. Someone had broken away from the main battle- an assassin? A foolish, courageous warrior?

“You can stop this.”

A female voice, nearby.

All of Ojal’s eyes fluttered open.

A human kneeled in front of Ojal. Dark red eyes, dark skin, hair tied in a bun at the back of her head. Human? Red eyes? Hmm. Not like a human Ojal had ever seen, but the humans she witnessed were crushed and broken underfoot the constructs’ heels. She wore a dark cloak, furred at the collar, sleeves, and tail. Underneath, a black tunic, black boots, black trousers.

“I know you,” Gabriel said abruptly.

Not _Ojal,_ Gabriel, and _Gabriel_ knew this person. Maybe not those eyes, maybe not at this time, but the dark skin, the intensity of her gaze, the shape of her face. God, he was Gabriel, _Gabriel_ , not Ojal, this was fucking insane-

“Excuse me?” The human said, cocking her head wearily.

“Nothing.” Ojal shook her head slightly. There was an uneasy feeling in her body- as though she had just learned something important and immediately forgot it. “You are the… The thing, that has been cutting through our troops.”

“The Reaper.” The woman provided in a whisper.

“What do you want?”

“I want my future.”

“Not to you. Never.”

“I want my _future._ You have a weakness for that storm atronach… I’ve watched you for days and nights. I want my fortune, djinni. Show me how I die.”

“The worst you can do to me is return me home, to the Iris.”

“I can do worse.” The woman leaned forward. “Your soul isn’t going to get as far as the Iris. It’s going to be mine.”

For the first time, fear made Ojal quake.

“Surely you must’ve heard rumors. A sweeping shadow. It kills quickly. The scourge of the poor _constructions._ And afterwards, something in the clay is missing… The spark is gone, but it hasn’t gone to your Lady.”

Her soul… Gone? No chance to reincarnate and love Aigtiham again...

“G-g-g-” Ojal swallowed. “Give me your, your hand…”

The djinni held out her shaking fingers, and the human steadily placed her hand in Ojal’s.

Blood. Fear. Pain. A cry, hastily snuffed and silenced. Ambition.

This Reaper…

She was going to be the end of the djinns.

Jealous. Of their power, of their ambition.

The savior of humanity.

At the cost of her own.

A soulless void.

Slippery grease.

The future was much more fragmented and broken as Ojal tried to cast her view to the end of this woman’s life. Too far. Much too far, much too far. Thousands of years, tens of thousands of years, maybe a hundred thousand- Trying to view into the end of a goddess’s future. Impossible. Couldn’t be done.

Had to be done.

More than one possible death. They converged at one point, however. Splintered, broken, shattered into shards like looking at one’s reflection in broken glass.

Rage, supreme rage. Teeth clenched bitter and bare. A jagged shard of metal imbedded in her throat. Plunged in and out with fury, blood spraying from the force of the repeated blows. Black blood flooded and clouded around her head like a halo of hair. Fingers curling. A twinge of insanity, of fury, that couldn’t be choked out by words or deeds. The reign of something new, something evil- Based on this human, but even worse. The end of not just the djinn- the end of the entire world.

Reluctance, fear. _I’m sorry._ This has to be done. The same shard of metal, plunged in the throat and pulled out, leaving her to bleed in peace. The twitching spasms of death throes. Hatred. Insurmountable, impossible hatred. Hatred for the murderer, hatred for the pity that’d been displayed.

Screaming vocal cords, absolute pain, the bloody rawness that could only be _loss._ Whirling white feathers, massive claws. Hundreds of wounds, ripping claws. Unholy rage that could only be birthed by the death of someone close. A roar that was not of a human, shrinking to the sobbing of one that was. The lifeblood of two people, black and red, mingled together as a broken body was cradled in a broken man’s arms.

The visions ended, and Ojal recoiled.

“That’s all I needed.” The Reaper murmured.

Ojal heard the sound of something sweep through the air.

She lost all feeling in her legs as she tumbled backward.

The pain hit, making her scream.

She hadn’t just lost feeling in her legs- she’d _lost_ them. Blood spurted from the stump of her torso, gushing bright and red all the while her troops continued to march miles away, unaware of their leader’s peril.

Ojal brought her wits together, remarkably calm and focused for one who was about to die.

“I can’t let you kill the djinn,” A strand of blood came up from the back of her throat, and she coughed it up.

“You also can’t stop me.”

“I may… I may not be able to stop you…” A wheeze. “But I can hurt you.”

“You’re going to die in a minute. Two minutes, maximum.” The Reaper shook her head, a smile on her face. “I’m going to enjoy watching you die. The same way you _bastards_ enjoyed watching _my_ family, my _friends,_ my entire _village_ die without so much as an answer as to _why._ Do you know how many people you’ve taken away? How many loved ones and family members? I’m not the bad guy. _You_ are. And the world will be better off without you. It’s the _djinn_ that caused this slaughter, and it’s the goddamn _djinn_ that are going to pay for it.”

“I call upon you, my lady Iris…” Ojal wheezed painfully.

“Right, go ahead. Say your last.”

“By Nature’s love I was given life. By your magic I was given power. I ask you, my lady… I plead with you… I need my strength for just a little more. In subs- In substitution, I beg of you… Take the vile magic corrupting that human.”

The smug, self-satisfied look of the human melted away.

“Entrap it within another being…” Ojal coughed. “So she may know the fury that consumes the djinni.”

“NO!”

Her foot slammed down on Ojal’s jaw, cracking it with a terrible snap. Teeth and blood came in the next body-wracking cough.

“You won’t be _talking_ any more,” The Reaper thrust forth her chin, teeth bared. “So just _shut_ it. Your goddess isn’t going to-”

The Reaper began to shake.

She fell to her knees, howling in pain. Her fingernails scraped her skin, making rivulets of blood run down. Her scream shook the trees, terrifying the birds. A smoky black cloud was siphoned out of the woman, and she howled again, louder and louder- In throes of agony and at understanding at what she had just lost.

She slumped brokenly on the ground, head on her shoulder. Just before her eyes slid shut, Ojal caught a glimpse of dark pupils.

Not red.

 _Those futures… They’re gone, surely._ Ojal’s eyelids fluttered. She was bleeding out. Too quickly. Far too quickly. _I saved you, Aigtiham. I saved all of us, from_ **_her._ **

A voice spoke in her head, in the head of every construct on the planet.

The smooth, melodious voice of the Prophet.

_Friends, fellows- bring down your arms. This battle and our future has been decided. Turn and flee- Come to the Himalayas. You will find shelter there. You will find a future there. I beg of you to end this bloodshed; we are safe. Our Ladies are safe._

And in a gentle voice, just to Ojal:

_Your work is done. You have done well. In another life, you will faithfully serve me, and find love in another being. You were cut down too soon… But you will serve another integral role in the true defeat of the Reaper, that I promise._

She swore she could feel his gentle arms encircling her. Swore she could hear Aigtiham happily calling her name, although it blended into a young man’s voice, the sweet coo of _Zenyatta,_ skin on skin and the cheery hum of love.

Ojal couldn’t summon the strength to reply. She breathed once more, and it was her last.

 _That’s good,_ the Prophet whispered. _You may rest._

 

=

 

Gabriel’s eyes shot open and he tried to get up, only to be immediately held down.

A golem glanced down at him in sympathy, hand balanced on his chest.

Torbjorn’s workshop.

“Oh, God.” He croaked.

“You saw it, then?” Torbjorn asked.

“What the _fuck_ was…”

“If it worked? You should’ve seen the _massacre_ the djinn commited.”

“I _was_ a djinni.” Gabriel ran his hand over his face. “Ojal. I had… An atronach I loved. I… I did something to the Reaper…”

“But you saw the bloodbaths?” Torbjorn checked.

Gabriel laid back, closing his eyes and tenderly massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah. I did.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of curiosity....
> 
> http://www.strawpoll.me/12127406
> 
> ( Thank you all for 10,000 views as well! I never expected this little fic would get so much positive attention- every single one of your comments and kudos makes all this writing business worthwhile! <3 )


	38. Please Leave Me Alone, Genji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel goes to the Shambali monastery for some answers and gets a chance to catch up with Ana and the others.

Gabriel pushed the golem away. It stepped back skittishly, lowering its head and folding its hands shyly behind its back. Gabriel got up, shaken and just barely trusting his legs.

It felt so  _ real.  _

God. He wasn’t even sure he had legs after that.

There were two things he was sure of, though. 

One, that Reaper- the  _ first _ Reaper- was definitely Liao. There was no beating around the bush, no getting around it. Liao had murdered Ojal. 

Like Molly, Jack’s parents’ goddamn cat, she’d had the Reaper ripped right out of her- Which explained how she was still alive despite being human. That explained the greasiness on her soul, too. Like Amelie, it was the remnant of the Reaper that had once been there.

Ojal couldn’t have known that removing the Reaper would make Liao immortal. There’s no way she would’ve done it if she’d known...

Two, Ojal was Zenyatta. Or Zenyatta was Ojal. Or Zenyatta had been Ojal, or Ojal would be Zenyatta… 

God, all this shit was so  _ complicated.  _ Liao was an immortal, the first Reaper, but she’d slaughtered Ojal and countless other constructs… But all those constructs had killed  _ millions  _ of humans… But they were doing it to ensure their own survival and to keep their two goddesses together…

Gabriel’s head hurt.

“So? Have you decided anything?” Torbjorn prompted gruffly.

“I’ve decided something, alright.” Gabriel massaged the spots just above his eyes, trying to clear his head. No more Ojal. He was Gabriel, was nobody but Gabriel. 

God, he remembered glimpses, fragments. Quiet conversations by fireside, declarations of love, that’d burned into smoke. Sharing someone’s head, especially with someone who’d been dead for thousands of years… It brought up existential questions he really,  _ really  _ did not want to think about. 

The only thing he could do now was get some more answers and try to forget. 

“What is it?” Torbjorn prompted. “Liao or the djinn?” 

“Oh, that? I have no fucking clue. But tell Jack that I’m going to be taking a… Vacation.” 

“You’re leaving  _ now?”  _

“Not yet. First I want some goddamn answers. What the  _ fuck  _ did I drink? I thought you’d  _ poisoned  _ me.” 

“It wasn’t poison. It’s a respected potion that should’ve shown you the past.” Torbjorn folded his arms ( arm and claw? ) and shook his head. “I put in a few pages from history texts… Some salt… A strawberry… Your saliva.” 

“I  _ drank  _ paper?” 

“Liquified paper.” 

Well, Gabriel had his answer.

“Remember to tell Jack. I’ll be back in… I don’t know. A day. Maybe two. If I don’t come back by then, go to the Shambali monastery.” 

“Going to kill those djinn prematurely?” Torbjorn asked hopefully. 

“I don’t know yet. I’ve got to talk to them first.” 

The familiar rushing roar of teleportation burned his ears, and he ended up outside the massive orangey stone structures of the Shambali monastery. Large helpings of snow decorated the ground, and the sky was a clear, perfect blue, with the sun glowing brightly overhead. A bird squalled, wheedling high in the sky with a handful of fellows. Wind blew, buffeting Gabriel. The cold was a lot more tolerable now- either it was especially warm in the Himalayas in April, or he had built up a resistance.

It was funny.

He had first come to the Shambali monastery four months ago.

It felt like a lifetime. 

“Reyes-san!” 

Gabriel started. He hadn’t been called  _ Reyes  _ in… Well, a long time. It was either ‘Reaper’ or ‘Gabriel’, but no one at the mansion called him Reyes.

A suspicious mound of snow shifted, and clumps of powder fell away to reveal a crouching Genji. The vampire looked surprisingly healthy- A ruddy, full-cheeked face. He was smiling- not smugly or with cruelty that lurked in his eyes. He looked… Well,  _ at peace  _ was a bit much, but he looked better. Happier.

“Hey! You didn’t call or anything.” Genji chirruped. “You got here at a good time, Hanzo and the others came to visit.” 

“Shit.” 

“I bet Ana misses you,” Genji cooed. 

“She probably does, but I don't have time to chat. I’m here on business.” 

“Listen, if Zenyatta has taught me anything, it’s that there’s too much negativity in this world to be mad about everything all the time. I’m sure you’ve got time to say ‘hi’ to Ana, at least. I’ll even take you to her so you don’t have to run around like headless chicken.” 

“Thanks,” Gabriel muttered.

“You’re welcome.” Genji sprang out of his snow drift, standing tall on two feet and brushing flecks of snow off his clothes. “You look different. Smell different, too.” 

The two of them headed towards the monastery, Gabriel comfortably pacing after Genji. 

“Well, I’m a fully fledged Reaper now.” Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe that’s it.”

“No, it's not…” He trailed off, ponderously, then his face split into a coy grin. “Ah,  _ I  _ know what it is. You’ve been having sex!” Genji clapped his hands together in delight.

“No, I  _ haven’t.”  _

“There’s a smell on you. It’s so thick I’m surprised even  _ you  _ can’t smell it with that human nose of yours’. Manly pheromones, you snagged a  _ real  _ alpha male, didn’t you-” 

“Jack and I have  _ not  _ fucked, so can you just-” 

“Aaah!  _ Jack,  _ you had sex with Jack!” 

The vampire, without warning, took off into a sprint.  “I’m gonna tell go  _ tell  _ everybody you finally got your cherry popped-!” 

“No you aren’t, get back here-!” Gabriel hollered, breaking into a run to chase the vampire. “Goddammit, it’s not  _ like that!”  _

“Sure it’s not!” Genji called back. “That’s a hickey on your neck, right, Reyes-san?” 

“Fuck off!” 

Genji darted into the open brick of the monastery, sprinting down a corridor, laughing gleefully. Goddamn, Gabriel was gonna wring his stupid neck-

Genji abruptly skidded to a halt, and Gabriel crashed into him full-tilt. He and Genji went tumbling to the floor in a sprawl of limbs.

“Why’d you  _ stop,  _ asshole!?” Gabriel hit the nearest part of Genji he could reach, which happened to be his arm. 

Zenyatta’s soft, harmonious voice answered for his wayward pupil. “You are always supposed to break for pedestrians.” 

“I did,” Genji whined. 

“And you did well. Reaper, whatever brings you here so early?” 

“I need to talk to you. Mondatta, too.” 

“Mondatta, at present, is in his room. He’s asked to not be disturbed, and I can’t let you bother him. I hope you understand…?” 

“Yeah,” Gabriel finally managed to extricate himself from Genji, getting up and healing up the twinges of pain from the crash landing. He bit back a sigh, trying to not sound too disappointed. “I do.” 

“No excuse to not see Ana now,” Genji told him, a pleased smile on his face. 

Why was everything so goddamn complicated? He just wanted to pop in to talk to Mondatta…

Zenyatta helped Genji up, and the vampire planted a thankful kiss on his cheekbone, making the djinni giggle. Zenyatta pulled him in for a full kiss, and Gabriel exasperatedly turned his back. 

Were he and Jack that…  _ blatant _ ? Probably, but he’d never noticed, because… Well. Whenever he was kissing Jack he wasn’t exactly thinking about what other people thought. He was kind of focused on the whole  _ kissing Jack  _ thing. 

After about two minutes of enough gratuitous petting for a loose NC-17 rating, Genji and Zenyatta finally broke apart. Jesus.

“To Ana we go,” Genji declared dizzily. 

“Took you long enough.” Gabriel harrumphed. “Could you do that… Privately?” 

“Says the Reaper who’s choked with someone  _ else’s  _ scent. Did you come here just after a session, or-” 

“No.” Gabriel responded flatly. 

“Then why’s it so thick?” 

Gabriel opted to not reply. 

“Come on. I’m not interested in you anymore, I’ve got Zenyatta and it’s been  _ heaven.  _ You can let me in on your sexploits.” 

“I already told you, it’s not like that. We share a bed. That’s all.” 

“How long?” Genji folded his arms.

“A few months?” Gabriel wrinkled his nose.

“And you haven’t done the horizontal shuffle? Plowed any fields?” A soft snicker. “Or  _ been  _ plowed.” 

“No, I  _ haven’t.”  _

“Something wrong with your equipment? Or his, I guess.” 

“I don’t know. I’ve never brought it up. And he hasn’t either.” 

“No way somebody’s scent could be that  _ male  _ and not have a healthy libido.” 

“Can we talk about something else?” Gabriel asked tartly. 

“You have to work on not being a spoilsport.” 

“And you have to learn to respect a Reaper when he says  _ no.”  _ Gabriel released wisps of smoke from his shoulders for emphasis. That cowed Genji at least a little bit- enough to shut him up. “Where’s Ana?” 

“Guest rooms. Biggest room we’ve got, because Reinhardt doesn’t fit through normal doorways.” 

Genji lead him down the mazelike hallways in silence. Occasionally they caught sight of another djinni. Dark skinned, light skinned, blue eyed, yellow eyed, of a swirl of different races, genders, weights, sizes. The only consistent feature they all shared was a basic human outline, nine eyes, and pointed ears. Monks, Gabriel guessed, although Genji didn’t stop to talk with any of them and they didn’t even seem to notice Gabriel passing them by. Occasionally there was a floating statue or two, sculpted so realistically Gabriel had to wonder if someone hadn’t turned a djinni to stone and left them there. 

They came to a large wooden door- Genji knocked politely. 

There was a few moments of shuffling, and the door swung open to reveal Ana and Reinhardt. 

“Mr. Reyes!” The old woman cried in delight. “I never would’ve expected to see you here-! How have you been?” 

“He’s bigger,” Reinhardt appraised.

“Bigger?” Gabriel echoed. 

“Yes, you’re taller than when I last saw you… And your  _ eyes…”  _ Ana shook her head. “Ah, I don’t care. I’m just glad to see you’re safe. How has life been treating you?” 

“As good as it gets, being the Reaper.” 

“He’s boning a guy named Jack,” Genji whispered in a not-so-quiet voice. Gabriel had no reservations about smacking him upside the head. 

“Jack? Jack _ Morrison,  _ the griffin? _ ”  _ Ana asked. 

“Yeah.” Gabriel folded his arms.

“He was the leader of Overwatch, right? I never directly met him, but he was a good man.” Obviously a little flustered, she grabbed his wrist. “Mr. Reyes, come in for a minute- We have a  _ lot  _ of catching up to do.” 

Reinhardt made tea. He also made some biscuits, although they were a little singed at the edges. 

It was a long, long story. 

Jack being his salvation in the confusion of becoming the Reaper. Rotting hands. Teleporting mishaps. Dealing with Jack as a rabid griffin. Finding new powers and fumbling around. Jack’s house for Christmas. The rainy January. All the lessons from Amelie and Angela. The February where he got access to the Reaper’s quarters. Valentine’s Day. The test in March, the beginning of the weightlifting, the date of the case between the djinni and Liao. He didn’t mention Ojal or anything similar- it was too recent, too disturbing, for him to properly recount.

“What’ve you been up to?” Gabriel finished. 

“Hanzo and McCree got married.” 

Gabriel spat out his tea. “ _ What?”  _

“They got married in March.” 

“You should’ve told-” He trailed off. No one, barring Zenyatta and those in Talon, knew exactly where the mansion was. Hell, if you gave Gabriel a map, even  _ he  _ couldn’t tell you where it was, because he’d only left it with teleportation. Made it kind of hard to contact him. He didn’t dream, so Ana couldn’t enter his dreams and tell him, and he didn’t have his phone anymore…

Speaking of his phone… He wondered what Lucio did with his apartment. The kid wouldn’t sell his stuff, that he was sure of. He might lease out the space, but he’d keep Gabriel’s stuff in the vain hope that Gabriel would come back…

God, he had really left everyone behind with this whole Reaper thing. 

“You can give him congratulations yourself,” Ana nodded slightly. “They moved out when they got married, but they came with us to see Genji.” 

“Is Jamison here?” 

“He had a…  _ Friend  _ who came by to get him in early April. I haven’t seen them since.” 

“Was this friend, uh… Big? Really,  _ really  _ goddamn big?” Gabriel asked.

“Do you know him?” 

“You could say that, yeah. Do you know where they went?” 

_ Roadhog kicked Liao’s ass last time. He could be useful… _

“I’m afraid I don’t.” 

_ Damn.  _

“By the way… I’ve been meaning to ask you. You’re in your forties, of course, so you don’t have any growth spurts coming on, but you’re a couple inches taller than you used to be. Do you know why?”

“Probably a Reaper thing.” In the second future, Gabriel had been close to seven feet tall, or at least, was a lot taller than Jack. In the first future, Gabriel had been on the couch the whole time so it was difficult to distinguish whether or not he had grown at all.

“If you keep growing, you’re going to be taller than Reinhardt.” Ana said, amused. 

“He could still twist me into a pretzel.” Gabriel pursed his lips. “Doesn’t matter how tall I am if I don’t have giant, rippling muscles.” 

Ana hid a smile. 

“It’s been… Good, catching up with you. I’ve been lonely in that mansion. You feel so…  _ Cagey,  _ just talking to three people and nobody else.” 

“I’ve done it for a decade.” Ana’s face quirked into a smile. “Give or take a few extra people.” 

Gabriel took a sip of his tea. “I have no idea how you did it, Ana. I  _ seriously  _ needed a change of scenery.” 

“This is our change of scenery.” Ana nodded slightly. “It’s good to see Genji again, too… You boys are getting along now, are you?” 

The skin of Gabriel’s neck tickled. “I guess. He’s more of a pest now, but at least he’s not an angry pest.” 

“Zenyatta did wonders for him.” Ana sighed happily. “It seems as though everyone’s… Happy, now.” 

“I don’t mean to be a downer, but I don’t think it’s going to last long.” Gabriel shook his head.

“Why’s that?” 

“Liao’s going to cause trouble. Maybe not for us, for the djinn.” Gabriel could almost feel the misty tendril slashing through his waist, splitting him in two. He shuddered uncomfortably. “She’s got a grudge. Definitely has a grudge. I don’t know if it’s as strong as it used to be, but she’s going to pull something at the meeting. Call it… Call it a gut instinct.”

“Do you know where this meeting is?” 

“Not yet. I’m not sure where you’d  _ hold  _ this kind of thing…” 

“Not at the monastery, not at Overwatch headquarters, not wherever the Reaper’s home is located.” Ana shook her head. “You’d need a neutral party. Someone with a lot of power or prestige.” 

“Can’t think of who that would be…” 

“Someone you haven’t heard of,” Ana suggested, sipping her tea. “Overwatch and the Shambali probably pick. Or someone you don’t say no to volunteers to host.” 

“Someone you don’t say no to?” 

“A god or goddess with a vested interest.” 

“Jack said gods were apathetic…” 

“The strong ones.” Ana nodded. “The weak gods participate in mortal events more.” 

“Well, I guess we still don’t kn-” 

“Reyes-san!” Genji’s obnoxious voice chimed from the door. “Zenyatta told me to come get you! Mondatta wants you for something!” 

“Oh, good.” Gabriel sighed. He shifted, then got up. Ana got up as well, and before Gabriel could object, hugged him from behind. 

“Do your best,” She whispered into his shoulder blades.

“I can’t promise anything-” 

“Shh. Do your best, Mr. Reyes. It’ll be good enough.” 

She pulled away, sitting back down and taking a drink of tea as if she’d never gotten up in the first place. 

Genji waited for him expectantly in the doorway, arms folded and foot tapping. 

“Do you know what he wants me for?” Gabriel asked.

“No. Zenyatta told me to tell you- He sounded a little upset. Can only guess Mondatta’s not happy.” 

“Shit.” 

“What did you do?” 

“Not what I did. What I saw.” 

“Don’t be cryptic.”

“Look, to put it barebones… Zenyatta was the one who created the Reaper.” 

“ _ What?  _ No. That can’t be true-” 

“Not on purpose.” Gabriel interrupted. “In a former life, he was a djinni named Ojal. Ojal asked her goddess to rip the magic out of the Reaper and put it into a different host. Ojal was murdered by the Reaper, then reincarnated into Zenyatta. The host had a natural lifespan, died, and gave the Reaper to another host.”

“ _ Kuso,”  _ Genji cursed. “You’re not making this up?”

“I’m not creative enough to pull something like that out of my ass.”

Genji drummed his fingers against his leg, obviously conflicted. Eventually, he muttered, “He deserves to know this.”

_ “ _ I’m not going to tell him, are you insane? He might  _ deserve to know it,  _ but how would you feel if you were told you were responsible for the creation of the Reaper? Let me answer the question. Not fucking good.” 

That shut Genji up. 

“Mondatta’s in the thick of all of this. I don’t know what  _ this  _ is, exactly, but I’m hoping to get some actual answers here. I’ve got a guess as to what he did, and if he  _ did  _ do what I think, he’s got a  _ lot  _ to answer for.” 

“What did he do?” 

“If I’m right, he’s the Prophet that started the Construction war.” 

“ _ Mondatta?”  _ Genji asked, disbelief written in his voice and in his face. “Mondatta would  _ never.  _ All life is sacred to him- He’s upset at the death of insects. He  _ couldn’t _ order murder on that scale-” 

“I didn’t say he  _ absolutely for sure did it.  _ If he  _ absolutely for sure did it  _ then I’m going to have to eighty-six the Shambali, but until I hear it out of his own mouth I’m not going to do jack shit.” 

Genji shifted nervously. “If he did it, Reyes-san… What about the rest of the monks?” 

Gabriel blew a loud breath out his nose. “Case-by-case basis.” 

“And Zenyatta?” Genji asked hopefully. 

“If he ‘disappears’ before I can talk to him, I’m not going to go looking for him.” Gabriel said brusquely. 

“Ah- Thank you, Reyes-san.” 

They stopped at a large door. Genji motioned to open it, but it opened by itself, leaving Gabriel face to face with Mondatta.

“I expect you have questions.” The djinni said placidly. “Come inside, and I will explain everything.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact 1: this fic is the 8th longest overwatch fic on ao3. hahahahahaha help
> 
> fun fact 2: the last time I looked at the results, there were forty votes, and the majority of you favored the Shambali, though I think thirty six percent of you still favored Liao. hopefully this next chapter shakes up those numbers!!


	39. Mondatta's Memoirs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Mondatta have a one-on-one talk.

“I expect you have questions.” The djinni said placidly. “Come inside, and I will explain everything.” 

Gabriel moved to enter- Genji stayed fixedly by the door. 

“Probably best if you go.” Gabriel told him. He nodded and scampered off down the hall. 

The doors swept shut behind Gabriel. 

Mondatta’s room had massive glass windows overlooking the steep cliffside. Like the rest of the architecture, it was ovalesque, with a massive fifty foot ceiling. There was a straw mat on the floor in the center of the room, accompanied by a couple unlit wax candles. There was a simple cot off to one side. There was a multitude of books and scrolls adorning the walls, in varying ages and types of paper or scrawled in what looked to be a dozen or more different languages. There was a big desk in front of the windows, a few handwritten notes and sketched drawings on them. 

One of them was a perfect rendition of Jack’s griffin form, although Jack had never been here. Gabriel fought the shiver that tried to crawl up his spine. 

“You’re going to ask if I was the Prophet.” Mondatta placed his hands on the desk, not looking at the young Reaper. 

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, but Mondatta cut him off.

“Don’t look surprised, Reaper. I can see this conversation exactly as it’s going to happen. I know what I’m going to say, I know what you’re going to say. I have known since before you were even born. For djinn, future-seeing only gets more accurate with age. And I am very, very old.” 

Gabriel’s angry words died on his tongue, and he faltered. 

“A mystery you have long since been waiting to solve- Who placed you there at Ana’s doorstep? It was me.” Mondatta faced the window. “Oftentimes a person needs a  _ push  _ in order to embrace their destiny. It needed to proceed this way- You needed Ana and the others. You needed Jack. If Angela had been able to take you before you met them… You died. Horribly. Before your time.”

“I don’t care about that. Are you or  _ aren’t  _ you the Prophet that started the Construction war?” 

“I am the Prophet.” Mondatta nodded almost imperceptibly. 

“You tried to kill humankind.” Gabriel spat. “I want to know  _ why.”  _

“It was the way things had to proceed.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“Reaper. Be at peace. I prepared a succinct and fair explanation for my actions a long, long time ago. It’s up to you to judge me, but please wait until I’m finished.” Mondatta cleared his throat. “I had a hand in the first construct uprising, that I will freely admit. I was one of many djinni forced into slavery, acting as a fortune teller. Should I object to showing the future, I would be beaten and left without food or water as long as my masters saw fit. There came a time when I could tolerate the treatment no more; I rallied the other enslaved djinn and any constructs who would listen. I am not proud of what we did. We slaughtered everyone in the village, except for the handful of children. One of the surviving children was Liao. She was a young child, and she had been swiftly and brutally orphaned in a matter of hours. What she saw was traumatizing, and understandably enough to cause her deep-seated hatred of the djinn. If I’d known what would’ve resulted… I wouldn’t have started the uprising in the first place.” A slight shake of Mondatta’s head.

“My clarity was not… As good as it could’ve been. I did not see the oncoming threat. I saw our successful uprising as an opportunity to free constructs from servitude, to cull the humans that’d taken to enslaving or murdering djinn if they refused to grant wishes or glimpse the future. I took over and whispered words of inspiration. The initial idea was for the other uprisings to be bloodless… But the first one wasn’t, and it set the precedent for those afterward.

“I had to stop the bloodshed. I knew that, but I didn’t know how- by the time I realized that the uprising was more dangerous than simply tolerating humanity, I had amassed armies of thousands. If I backed out, the constructs would be directionless. Either slaughtered in battle without a guiding hand, or disbanded and hunted down. I needed a plan, and I didn’t have one prepared. 

“While meditating one night, I saw the creation of the Reaper, born from the ashes of the first ruined village. I saw the genocide that would follow, I saw millions of construct and djinn deaths at her hands. If I stopped the war, she would hunt each and every djinn down individually and not just kill them, but rip their souls from the clay we were born of. It would separate the goddesses from one another, and would result in the extinction of the djinn.

“What could I do? If I quit the war, we would die. If I continued, humans would die in greater and greater numbers until there was none left but the Reaper. In the depths of meditation the next night, I pleaded for the Lady Iris to guide me. She granted me a vision- How to slow the Reaper’s advance. I saw Ojal’s death, I saw her sacrifice and the removal of the Reaper from Liao. The Iris swore she would remove the danger of the Reaper if I did a two simple things. I would need to give up my right to reincarnation- Permanent death, should I meet my end- And I had to pick the first new host the Reaper would have to be placed inside. 

“The Lady Iris told me there was no other way. I chose a sickly old man, hoping that with his death the Reaper would die along with him. Then I proceeded with the war, and had to keep going until Ojal did the inevitable and asked the Lady Iris to tear the Reaper from Liao’s body.” 

Mondatta glanced at Gabriel mournfully. “I had no choice, Gabriel. It was genocide of humankind, or genocide of the djinn. I was protecting my own.” 

“If I kill you…” 

“There will be no returning for me- but I made peace with this thousands of years ago. In death I will serve the Lady Iris.” A wistful, swooping sigh. “Perhaps if I am loyal enough she will be merciful and soften her sentence...  If I were to have one last life, I would take it as a butterfly.” 

“Neither of you were _ really _ in the wrong. You were defending your people and Liao wanted revenge for you killing her village.” Gabriel ground his teeth. “Fuck. There’s no good choice here.” 

“I believe there is. Liao is dangerous. Do you know what she has planned for you?” 

“Planned for  _ me?”  _ Gabriel blinked. “How do I fit in this?” 

“She can’t kill the djinn unless she has her powers restored. In order to restore them, she will need to kill you and claim the Reaper once again. Fortunately for us, this presents an opportunity.” 

“An… Opportunity?” Gabriel blinked, confused. 

“Perhaps you were unaware… When a magical being has its magic ripped away from it, it is immortal until that magic is returned. Liao, as she is, is invincible, eternal. No matter how badly she is damaged, she cannot die unless the Reaper is part of her once again. Even though she will be restored to her full strength, she will be vulnerable.” 

“You’re saying…” 

“You’re going to die.” Mondatta said bluntly. “She  _ needs  _ to kill you. The djinn need you dead in order to kill her.” 

“I’ve seen futures where I survive-” Gabriel blurted.

“As have I.” Mondatta’s blue eyes were dangerous. “I have stared at my own pickled eyes as you molested Jack in your throne room. I have seen the trophies. I have seen your actions. You have the potential to be even worse than Liao. Zenyatta gambled tremendously by not taking you straight to Liao and killing you the day you took on the Mantle.” 

His voice grew harsher, colder. “Were it up to me, Reaper, you would be dead, as would Liao.” 

Gabriel’s heart thumped wildly in his chest.

Mondatta sighed quietly. “ _ But,  _ I have learned to listen to Zenyatta’s council. He advised me that you have felt… Genuine love, compassion. That you have the capacity to beat Liao and save not just the djinn, but every creature on the planet.” 

Tendrils of smoke rose from the ground, whipping nervously in response to Gabriel’s own uncertainty. 

“With this, I tentatively ask you put a stop to Liao. She’s going to kill you, then the djinn.” 

“What the hell do you want  _ me  _ to do about it? There’s not jack shit I can do against her if I’m supposed to be dead.” 

“Get your friends to back us.” Mondatta said simply. “Jack, Mei, Roadhog, and Jesse will be invaluable in her defeat. They won’t listen to me. But they  _ will  _ listen to you.” 

“Mei’s part of Overwatch, and God knows where Roadhog is!” 

“You will find him.” Mondatta assured. 

Gabriel made a slight, desperate noise. “What if I talk to Liao? Convince her that you were only doing it to protect yourself?” 

“She’s stubborn. These past thousand years have only served as coarse sand rubbing against an open wound... She hates us more with every passing breath. Hatred that, by now, cannot be persuaded away. It’s inevitable, Reaper. You will die. Liao will die.” 

Gabriel tried to force his inevitable demise out of his mind. Destiny was bullshit, anyway. Had to focus on what could be done now or would be done later. “What happens to the Reaper after Liao and I are killed?”  

“I will take the Mantle. When I die, the Lady Iris will accept my soul and the Reaper’s, ridding us of it entirely. Before such a time, I would atone for the sins of my past by building a brighter present with the Reaper’s strength.”

“Suppose I want to back Liao instead of the Shambali.” 

The temperature of the room seemingly dropped by fifty degrees- the shadows grew darker, the corners of Gabriel’s eyes fuzzing with static. Mondatta seemed to loom over him. 

_ “Then I would cut out the middleman and rip the Reaper from your still-warm body.”  _

Gabriel did what one does when blind panic was taking the helm instead of logic.

He attacked. 

Tendrils struck for Mondatta, intending on binding him. One looped around his ankle, his waist, his wrists. The djinni’s body was restricted, wrapped tight in a cocoon of darkened mist. Mondatta’s fingertips met in front of him, hands clasped. His eyes glared up at Gabriel coolly. 

“You’re staying right fucking there,” Gabriel snarled. “You can do a lot of fucking things, but I’m the goddamn Reaper and I’m not gonna take  _ any _ fucking threats from you, got it?” 

A book unexpectedly flew off the shelf and hit Gabriel in the face, making him stagger. The tendrils weakened enough for Mondatta to break free. 

More books flew off the wall, gradually orbiting Mondatta’s body in a spinning halo. 

“You’re out of your depth, Reaper.” 

“Was that a motherfucking book?!” Gabriel thumbed his cheek, wincing at the tenderness. “Goddammit, that hurt!” 

“That was ‘ _ A Collection of Japanese Siren Memoires’.  _ I hope it hurt.” 

Gabriel irritably fixed the injury with a light application of will. 

The tension between the two had at least been temporarily defused. 

“I don’t want to kill Liao.” 

“You don’t have to. You have to die.” Mondatta paced back to the windows. 

“I don’t want to do that either!” 

“You have two weeks, Reaper. Make them count.” 

“Hey, I’m not done-” 

“I am.” Mondatta folded his arms behind his back. “I’ve told you a lot of things I’ve never told anyone. I am… Troubled. I don’t wish to speak to you anymore. Not today, anyway.”

“One last question.” Gabriel insisted. 

Mondatta let out a wearied sigh. “One more.” 

Out of the myriad of questions… One of them jumped to mind, one of them unexpected. Softly, Gabriel asked: “Are you okay?"

A pained laugh. "I’m old. Very, very old. Older than Liao. Older than some gods. In truth? I want to go home. To my Lady. But I’m not yet done, and I won't be okay until the Reaper is dead." 

Mondatta paced over to the straw mat on the floor. With a whisper, the candles flickered to life, wicks steadily burning as if they had been for some time. 

Mondatta sat down, lotus position. His nine eyes slid shut, and he let out a soft, defeated sigh.

Gabriel showed himself out. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what Liao'll have to say to all of this?
> 
> sidenote: three month anniversary, here's to 150,000 words in 3 months! thanks to everyone who's been supporting this fic, whether you were at the beginning or just found this fic today!


	40. Chasing the Junkers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel talks to Hanzo and McCree, the Sydney Opera House explodes, and Gabriel attempts to enlist Roadhog's help.

The next stop, now that he had gotten Mondatta’s full recount of the construct war, was obviously Hanzo and Jesse’s room. There was no doubt in Gabriel’s mind that they would be sharing one- their relationship had always come off as casual, but Hanzo had a vibe to him that made Gabriel think he was a little like Genji. Clingy under a smooth vampiric exterior. Plus, they were friggin’ married. 

Now, to find where their room was…

Genji was waiting just outside Mondatta’s door, even though Gabriel distinctly recalled him running off.

“What did he say?” Genji asked. “What did you decide?”

“Nothing, yet. The stakes just got a fuckton of a lot higher, though.”

_ I’m going to die in two weeks.  _

The wheels in his head were turning, and he was already starting to formulate a plan. Angela would be the only one in on it. It would have to be a last resort, if he couldn’t reason with Liao...

“What happened?” 

“Nothing that’s gonna bother you. Where are Hanzo and Jesse?” 

“In their room. Hanzo got some kind of illness before he got here- Barely leaves his room. Jesse’s having a lot of fun with it.” 

“Fun with his husband being sick?” 

“No vampires have ever died from disease before. Whatever it is, it’s not serious, and I think Jesse enjoys teasing him while he feels miserable. Normally I’d be in there making fun of him, too, but I don’t want to get sick.” 

“Jesse’s not worried he’s going to get sick?” 

“Don’t think he cares.” Genji shrugged. “Diseases don’t cross over easily from vampire to werewolf or vice versa. Kinda like how humans can’t get dog diseases or bats can’t get bird diseases.”

“Swine Flu’s got something to say about that.” 

“Okay,  _ mostly.”  _ Genji amended. “What do you want them for, anyway? ‘Cos Hanzo’s not going anywhere like that.” 

“I want to talk to them.” 

Genji strode off with purpose down a corridor, and Gabriel followed him. 

“What’re you going to talk to them about?” Genji asked. 

“I need to know where Jamison is.” 

“Ah. Jamison was still there when you, uh… Teleported me to Zenyatta. I have no idea where he went.”

“Which is why I’m asking them and not you.” Gabriel replied coolly. 

There was a couple seconds of silence. Genji cleared his throat, and Gabriel glanced at him.

“Hey, all kidding aside… That Jack guy. You’ve been sharing a bed for four months and you haven’t…?”

“I don’t think I could.” 

“Oh, it’s easy. Firmly grasp-” 

“That’s  _ not  _ what I meant,” Gabriel interrupted sharply.

“Don’t tell me you’re the  _ wait ‘til marriage  _ kind.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Then why haven’t you-” 

Gabriel gave him a sharp glare. Genji was undeterred.

“Are you scared of something?” He ventured. “Sex is easy. Messy, but easy. And it feels  _ really  _ goddamn good.” 

“I don’t want to.” Gabriel deflected.

“You’re a man, aren’t you? A  _ human  _ man? Was under the impression there’s not a human man alive who wouldn’t snap up the opportunity to fuck.” 

“Not all men are like that.” Gabriel’s tone grew warning- a sharp sensitivity that suggested that Genji stop talking or his face would be abruptly introduced to the nearest wall. 

“You still have balls, right?” 

“Genji, shut  _ UP!”  _

Gabriel stopped walking. Genji flinched, arms halfway raised to defend himself. 

_ “ _ Stop trying to imply there’s something  _ wrong  _ with me just because I don’t want to.” 

Genji paused, a fragile, brittle silence between the two of them.

“Did someone hurt y-” 

“No, they didn’t. Drop it, Genji, before I dropkick you off the edge of the fucking cliff.”

That killed the mood pretty quick, but if Genji kept pricking him with intrusive personal questions he was actually going to hurl him off the edge of the Shambali monastery’s cliffside. 

“Here,” Genji mumbled, stopping at the edge of the hallway. “Second door on your right.” 

The vampire scampered off. Gabriel could already see him crying to Zenyatta that the big bad human had hurt his poor little vampire feelings. 

Whatever. 

He went up to the door Genji had instructed, and knocked hard.

An incoherent mumble from within.

Silence.

A louder mumble.

Silence.

The mumble was loud, clear, pained: “ _ Jesse,  _ there is  _ someone  _ at the  _ door.”  _

Must’ve been Hanzo. Christ, he sounded awful.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart, don’t ‘cha worry.” Jesse assured him gently. In a yell, “Genji, if that’s you, you better’ve brought a good bribe to make me let you in-” 

“It’s Gabriel.” 

Hanzo made a hoarse, excited noise. “Reyes-san? Jesse, open the door.” 

“Stop talkin’, sweetpea. I love your voice, but it hurts me to hear you wheezin’ like that.” There was a shifting sound, then a heavy thunk of boots padding towards the door.

Jesse opened it, thankfully more clothed than the last times they’d met. He had on a dark brown shirt and-  _ were those leather chaps jesus christ.  _ Even more ridiculous was the stupidest cowboy hat Gabriel had ever seen, accompanied by a faded red serape fringed with a pattern of golden chains. His boots had  _ spurs, holy fucking christ.  _

“You look ridiculous.” 

“Looked in a mirror lately?” Jesse quipped. 

“At least I don’t look like I got dressed by a four year old’s idea of a vaquero _. _ ”

An indignant but friendly huff from Jesse, who leaned against the doorframe. He was smiling, which was probably a good sign. “Hanzo’s under the weather right now, or he’d say ‘hi’. What’cha want?” 

“Jamison and Roadhog. I need to know where they went.” 

“The last I heard, they were headed to Australia.” McCree folded his arms. 

“That’s an  _ entire  _ continent, Jesse, I’d need you to be more specific than that.” Gabriel said, trying to not sound exasperated. “That’d be like asking me to scour the entirety of Europe for two people. They must’ve said  _ something.”  _

“Let me ask Hanzo.” McCree remained in the doorframe, but turned his head to call into the room he was blocking the door to. “Sweetheart, how do you feel?” 

Hanzo made a faint, miserable sound from within. 

“That good or bad?” 

Hanzo said what Gabriel assumed was a rude word in Japanese.

“You can call me a fucker all y’want, that’s fine. But sweetheart, Gabriel needs our help, and your brain’s a lot better’n mine when it comes to memory an’ that kinda shit. You remember where Jamison went?” 

“Sydney.” Hanzo groaned pitifully. “They went to Sydney…” 

“There’s my grumpy little ‘pire,” Jesse cooed. “You want me to get you some water?”

A tiny, miserable ‘ _ yes’  _ left the bedridden Hanzo. 

“Well, Gabriel, y’got your answer-” 

“Thanks, I’ve got to go.” 

“What? Now?” McCree looked dismayed. “We haven’t seen you for months an’ months-” 

“I’m sorry, Jesse, but I just don’t have time. They left, what, a week ago? The longer I wait, the longer they have to get further and further away.” 

“What do you need ‘em for?” McCree asked. 

“A back-up.” 

Three plans. 

One, Gabriel talked Liao down and got her to realize the djinn weren’t that bad.

Two, they subdued Liao and kept her alive, but kept her somewhere she couldn’t hurt the djinn. Roadhog had proven himself capable of stopping her before, and Gabriel already had a spot in mind for Liao.

Three, his least favorite option. He died, Liao became a fully-fledged Reaper. He’d need Roadhog, Reinhardt, Jack, McCree, Mei- any of the best brawlers he knew. They’d kill Liao, and that would be that.

Roadhog was tried and true, so he’d go for the mercenary first. Then Mei. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t even have to convince Reinhardt, Jack, and McCree to back him, but he’d have to ask them to attend the meeting.

Gabriel had a fourth plan, in addition to the others, but it would be a spit in the face for both the Shambali and Liao. He wanted to see if he could talk this out first.

The roaring rush of teleportation consumed him. After all this time, it’d become almost a comfortable noise... 

Gabriel ended up in a doorway. He recognized the room in front of him as the room Angela held her lessons in. Jack and Torbjorn appeared to be in deep argument, with Amelie, Sombra, and Angela spectating from a few feet away.

“- let him go!” Jack was saying, angrily facing down Torbjorn. 

“Hey, Jack.” Gabriel interrupted, pushing between Amelie and Angela. “We’re going to Australia.” 

Jack paused, glancing away from Torbjorn to Gabriel. 

“Told you,” Torbjorn sniffed. “Wasn’t even gone three hours.” 

“Australia?” Jack said, ignoring Torbjorn entirely. “Why?” 

“Just a second, Jack. Everyone listen up, ‘cos I’m only going to say this once.” Gabriel lifted up his chin. “Liao’s immortal.” 

Torbjorn blinked in surprise, Jack’s face fell, Amelie’s lips curled into a snarl, and Angela shook her head in disbelief. Sombra merely nodded, as if Gabriel had confirmed what she already knew. 

“I knew it,” Amelie hissed. 

“Gabriel, how do you know?” Angela urged. 

“She was the Reaper. The  _ first  _ Reaper. The djinn ripped the Reaper clear out of her, and gave it to somebody else. So long as she’s not the Reaper, she’s immortal.” 

It dawned on Angela immediately. “You mean-” 

“Yes. We’ll talk about it later. Jack, Australia, right now.” 

Jack cautioned him. “Are you sure you don’t want a break? It’s getting late, and you didn’t exactly take it easy today.” 

“Prime daylight hours in Australia.” Gabriel held out his hand. “Let’s get moving.” 

“Are you going to tell me what the hell we’re going to  _ do  _ in Australia?” Jack asked desperately. “Does it have anything to do with Liao?” 

“I’ll explain on the way.” Gabriel promised.

“On the way  _ where?”  _ Jack’s patience looked to be wearing thin. 

“We’re going to Sydney.” Gabriel paused. “Uh, just occurred to me I don’t know where Sydney is. Is it in the middle of Australia, or the upper part, or…” 

Sombra cleared her throat. She waved two fingers in the air, and a glowing purple map popped into the air. Looked to be a map of Australia, with a bright red dot on the southeast coast. Gabriel moved to touch the floating map on childish impulse, and his fingers went right through it.

“Hologram?” Gabriel asked, trying and failing to not sound impressed. 

“Magic.” Sombra corrected. She waved her hand again, and a picture of a ( building? ) and a bigass bridge, then a photo of a generic skyscraper-clustered city by the shore. “I googled Sydney. Weird-looking building is an opera house. Bridge is the Sydney Harbor Bridge.” 

“You can use Google with your brain?” Gabriel asked, fascinated.

“It’s a technomancer thing. So long as I’m alive, I’m wired up to the internet.” 

She paused a second.

“Wires are buzzing right now.” Sombra said, ponderously. “Lots of news about break-ins. Murder. Here’s a good headline:  _ The Frightful Crime Spree In Sydney.”  _

“Probably means we’re on the right track.” Gabriel muttered grimly. 

“We’re chasing criminals?” Jack asked. “Don’t we have bigger fish to deal with right now?” 

“Roadhog’s the biggest fish we’re going to find.” Gabriel assured him. “Uh, literally big. He’s like, seven feet tall and weighs at least five hundred pounds.” 

“What do we need him for?” 

“I’m explaining on the  _ way,  _ Jack, let’s go already!” 

Jack took Gabriel’s hand- he tenderly slithered a tendril around both of their wrists, and off they went. 

Gabriel opened his eyes.

Blue. Lots of blue. 

And the inability to breathe.

His heart shriveled, and he looked around desperately for Jack. Underwater he could make out the vague shape of Jack’s hair waving in the current, and his blurry body treading water. 

They were still holding hands. Jack squeezed gently and gave Gabriel’s hand an experimental tug, pointing upwards to indicate where they should swim. Gabriel attempted to help Jack drag him up to the surface, but he was a miserable swimmer and had been for as long as he could remember. The best he could do was try to not be dead weight. 

They surfaced at roughly the same time, although Jack was first. Gabriel gasped for breath, pulling in great lungfuls of air. It hadn’t been as bad as the first time he’d been plunged into the water when teleporting, but god, it’d been a long time since he’d done some stupid shit like accidentally teleporting underwater.

“Okay, Gabriel, you can tell me why we’re here.” Jack said.

“We’re not in Sydney yet,” Gabriel spat out a mouthful of water. 

“Look behind you,” Jack jerked his chin up. Gabriel attempted to turn around, splashing all the while. Behind them, dominating the skyline, was the massive Harbor Bridge from Sombra’s photos.

“Ah, shit. We’re in the harbor?” He glanced around- clear water and two separate city skylines. The bay or port or river or whatever this big stretch of water looked to be empty. “Careful, Jack, we might get hit by a boat.”

“Gabriel, why are we here?” Jack ignored his joking. 

“I’m looking for a mercenary.” 

“That criminal you mentioned? Roadhog?” A pause. “Wait, why do  _ you  _ know a mercenary?” 

“He kidnapped me.” Gabriel provided. 

“He did  _ what?”  _

“Angela and Amelie hired him to kidnap me and bring me to them. He beat a Chinese yeti, a vampire, and Liao, at the same time, and he’s  _ human.  _ He’s the best protection in case things go south.”

“That’s impossible,” Jack said automatically. “A human wouldn't stand a chance against a vampire, much less a yeti.”

“I was there, Jack.” Gabriel told him. “I saw it. And about the yeti- after this we’re going to go talk to her.”

“But  _ why?”  _

“Because I have a plan, and I’m going to need all the help I can get.” 

“Are you going to tell me your plan?” 

“No, because you’d never agree to it. I promise, though, you’re going to be important.” 

“Gabriel, you tell me what you’re planning  _ right  _ now-” 

The loudest, most destructive sound Gabriel’d ever heard graced ( by graced, Gabriel meant nearly deafened ) his ears. Like a gunshot, but instead of  _ one  _ gunshot it was a billion, all simultaneously firing at once. He flailed in the water, turning to the best of his ability to look. Off in the distance, there was a blot against the immaculate city skyline. A building had been broken- there were jagged shards of metal, wood, and glass. Support beams had collapsed, leaving a half-broken building with a yawning hole encompassing most of the structure. Within the gaping hole, fires raged. After a few heartbeats of silence, a support beam broke away, and the rest of whatever the building had been collapsed in on itself, leaving a pile of rubble, broken timber, and fire. 

Smoke poured from the ruined structure, and shrapnel began raining down. Not close enough to hit Gabriel or Jack, but chunks of debris the size of people  _ splashed  _ into the harbour, and slivers of wood, glass, and metal came down like rain. 

“Is that the opera house?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“It _ was _ .” Gabriel’s eyes were fixed firmly to the destruction. “And I think I know who did it, too.” 

“You can see them from this distance?” 

“No, but I’d bet… I don’t know, a lot of fuckin’ money that Jamison and Roadhog just blew that up.” 

“Jamison?” Jack echoed.

“Oh, right. Roadhog’s got a pixie with him. A bitey piece of shit with no concept of personal space. Loves explosions and blood, that kind of thing. They’re dating.” 

“A pixie and a human?” Jack echoed dubiously. 

“No more stupid than a griffin and a human.” Gabriel pointed out. Jack wordlessly conceded to that with a nod. “Come on, no time to lose. If we get to the opera house quickly, we might be able to catch them before they run off. The only problem is the police…” 

“We’ll just have to get there before they do.” Jack swam off with a perfect breaststroke, leaving Gabriel to pathetically doggie paddle after him. “Those sides on the opera house look steep, I’m not sure we’ll be able to climb up-” 

“I got it,” Gabriel hollered at him. “I’ll teleport us up when we get there.” 

Gabriel was struggling after about seven minutes, and there was a  _ lot  _ of goddamn water to go. Goddamn Australians, goddamn opera houses, goddamn  _ water.  _ Jack remained at a restrained ten feet ahead of him, moving sluggishly to match Gabriel’s slothic pace.

“Where’d you learn to swim, Jack?” Gabriel panted. “I’m tired already.” 

“Can’t join Overwatch unless you can swim!” Jack called. 

“Lemme guess- You were part of a swim team? Swim captain?” Gabriel huffed. 

“Something like that!” 

“I hate you, Jack.” 

“Love you too, Gabe!” Jack called cheerily. “We’re almost there.” 

“Fuck this.” He muttered to himself, then loudly to Jack: “Jack, come back here!” 

Jack stalled in his swimming, then turned and paddled back to Gabriel. “Need help?” 

“I’m going to teleport us there, it’s faster.” 

“You won’t drop us in any more harbors?” Jack checked.

“It was just the one time, Jack.” Gabriel harrumphed. “Excuse me for not properly teleporting two people, like, five thousand miles in half a second.” 

“Seven and a half thousand,” Jack corrected. 

“Shut up, nerd,” Gabriel splashed the white-haired griffin. “Grab on, I’ll get us there.” 

Jack took his hand, and Gabriel teleported the rest of the distance. 

“Careful, there’s broken glass.” Jack said as soon as he could speak.

Gabriel’s eyes swept up the broken, ruined shell that had formerly been an opera house. “I think the broken glass is the least of our worries. The rest of that could collapse at any second, and I don’t even want to think about how many bodies are in there.” While he was speaking, he cast his gaze out into the water. The expanse of blue was strewn with sheets of jagged glass, warped metal, plastic, and, least appealing, vague shapes that could be bodies. Some of the aforementioned body-shaped things were clouding the water a brackish red. He didn’t look long enough to catch details, and was thankful that he couldn’t get nightmares. 

A sound, other than crackling flame and groaning metal, caught Gabriel’s attention.

“Jack,” Gabriel whispered. 

“I hear it.” He murmured tensely. “Is that… Laughing?” 

“Yeah. That’s Jamison.”

“I think he’s in front of the opera house,” Jack had shifted into full-on serious mode, slightly crouched with wary, darting eyes. 

“How are we gonna get around it?” Gabriel asked, unenthused about the prospect of traipsing over dangerous piles of freshly exploded rubble. “I don't think we’re gonna be able to get through it.”

A strained support beam groaned and collapsed, toppling the last major upright part of the former opera house. 

“Or over it, I guess.”

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” Jack muttered. “We could swim around-”

“You don’t want to know what’s in the water, Jack. I’d rather go through all…  _ That.  _ Look, I can turn into smoke to go over it without getting hurt, but you…”

“Can’t,” Jack muttered. “I could transform, and give you a ride, but we might be seen…”

“Jamison just blew up the Sydney Opera House, I think if anybody saw a griffin it could be excused as shock.” Gabriel shook his head.

Jack shook his head, not happy with the excuse. “I’ll figure something out, Gabriel. Go on while I try to solve this…”

Dissolving into smoke was a hard trick to get right. It involved losing every single part of yourself. It involved not being able to breathe or flex muscles or speak or anything that a human being  _ should  _ be able to do. It was a foreign, upsetting sensation, and it hardly got better even after Amelie’s repeated insistence on training the skill. 

Fortunately, although it didn't  _ feel  _ any better after months of training, it did get easier. Half a second was all it took for Gabriel’s whole body to blend into an indistinct black haze. 

His sense of hearing and sight dulled, while his sense of touch heightened. He could feel air currents blowing all around- the hot torrents of pluming smoke from the explosion-born infernos, the gusts of cool wind blowing off the surface of the water. He could jaggedly feel the burning, smoldering metal and scrap that’d formerly been the Sydney Opera House beneath him. As smoke, he could vaguely tell that things were  _ hot  _ without the sensation of  _ oh god I’m burning,  _ which meant he slithered through a gout of fire no worse for wear. 

His muffled ears made it hard to distinguish Jamison’s laughter from creaking metal and crackling flames, and his weak eyesight made it easy to get turned around. He caught himself attempting to head in the wrong direction more than once, but managed to get to the other side of the opera house’s wreckage. 

He formed back into a human, dusting himself off. 

About thirty feet away and twenty feet overhead, Jamison watching the wreckage blaze.

“Look at how pretty the flames are!” Jamison’s shrieky voice burbled, trying and failing to suppress giggles. “Smell all those suits burning! Ooh, I  _ love  _ the opera!” 

“Uh-huh.” Roadhog bent over- there was an injured, weeping woman who had evidently managed to escape the carnage. He held her by the back of her dress and uncaringly ripped her necklace off, then pocketed the trinket. He dispassionately let her go and she scuttled along. Necklaceless, but no more worse for wear. Gabriel wasn’t entirely sure if it was a sense of mercy or if Roadhog didn’t like killing if he didn’t have to. 

Gabriel headed over towards them, approaching slowly in case they thought he was some kind of threat. Reaper or not, Roadhog  _ was  _ dangerous. 

“Hog!” Jamison hollered. “Somebody’s coming!” 

He fluttered down onto Roadhog’s massive shoulder, on all fours, back arched like an angry cat. “It’s a cop! Roadhog, quick, kill him!” 

“Jamison, that’s the Reaper. Show some respect.” Roadhog folded his arms. “What do  _ you  _ want?” 

“To talk.” Gabriel held out his hands in a gesture for peace. “Look, I need your help.” 

“Our help?” Jamison asked. “Why the hell’d we wanna help you, huh, cunt?” 

“Jamison, it’s me.  _ Gabriel.”  _

“Gabri-” A pause. “You’re the Reaper! That’s  _ awesome!  _ Hey, look at the explosion Hoggie and I caused! Opera house in little bits- The  _ boom  _ was better than any singing you’d get in that old place!” He stood up proudly, throwing out his skinny limbs in the direction of the smoking ruin. 

“It’s great, Jamison. I love, uh, explosions. All that… Shrapnel. The fire. Millions of dollars of property damage. Can I talk to Roadhog now?” 

“Jamison. Take five.” Roadhog grunted. “Go see if you can find any jewels on the bodies.” 

“We shoulda robbed ‘em,  _ then  _ blown it up.” Jamison moaned. 

Roadhog made a grunting noise of assent, and didn’t argue. The pixie fluttered off Roadhog’s shoulder and darted into the wreckage. 

“What?” Roadhog asked plainly.

“I want to hire you. Uh, not yet-” 

“You couldn’t afford me.” 

“Angela did.” Gabriel argued. “And I’ve got all  _ her  _ money.” 

A snort. “What’s the job?” 

“Killing an immortal.” 

“It’s impossible.” 

“I know that,” Gabriel shook his head. “Look, it’s a complicated situation. Someone immortal is trying to kill me. If they kill me, they won’t be immortal anymore. If that happens, I need you to kill her.”

“If?” Roadhog prompted.

“If everything goes according to plan, I won’t die. In that case, you’d get to just… Hang out. And get paid for it.” 

A grunt from Roadhog. “Need more on this immortal.” 

“You’ve fought her before. Burger King, a few months ago?” 

Gabriel couldn’t see his face from beneath the lenses of his mask, but he did shift his stance. “An old Reaper.” 

“The first Reaper. Listen, if you kill her quickly after she takes the Mantle back, she won’t have her powers instantly. It’ll be like fighting a fledgeling Reaper instead of a fully-fledged-” 

“I’ve heard enough.” Roadhog muttered decisively. “Who pays me if you get killed?” 

“Angela.” 

Roadhog nodded. “Where do you need me?” 

“As soon as I figure out  _ where  _ the meeting’s being held, I’ll let you know. I can teleport people, so I guess I could take you with m-” 

“We have our methods.” Roadhog grunted. “We’ll just need to know where at least a day before.” 

“Where’ll you be in the next week?” 

“Melbourne. There’s a bar, the  _ Australian Omnium.”  _

“I’ll find it.” 

“Good. Jamison and I have to go.” He turned back to the smoking wreckage. “Jamison!” 

It took a second or two, but the pixie shot out of the doomed opera house, carrying a large diamond ring and a necklace with a large, sparkling green stone set at the center. He deposited them in Roadhog’s huge hands, and the massive mercenary stuffed them in his pockets. “We’ve gotta go before the cops get here.” 

“Gotcha!” Jamison piped happily. “What’d that tosser say?” 

“We got a job.” Roadhog murmured. “Let’s go. Now.” 

Roadhog padded off in the direction of his parked motorcycle, and Jamison fluttered after him. 

A split second after they drove off, Jack walked over to Gabriel, sopping wet and disgruntled.

“God, don’t tell me you actually swam in the water.” Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “Jack, I told you not to.”

“Most of the debris sank to the bottom, Gabe, it’s okay.” He gestured to the direction Roadhog and Junkrat had left in. “What did they say?” 

“They agreed to do it and told me they’d be staying at the  _ Australian Omnium  _ in Melbourne.” 

“A hotel?” 

“A bar, Roadhog said.” 

“Alright,” Jack shook his head. “What say you we take a walk around Sydney? I’ve only been to Australia a couple times, it’d be good to go here not on business. Besides, I’m starving.” 

Cars started pulling up- white vehicles, checkered blue on the left and right sides, helpfully stamped with  _ POLICE.  _

“I think we’ve got to go.” Gabriel held out his hand, and Jack took it. “Let’s make a stop at home for some dry clothes and food, then we’ll talk to the yeti.” 

Policemen poured out of their cars, yelling something or another. 

Time to go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This is one of the chapters that kept its original beta title! 
> 
> Fun fact 2: In the original draft, Gabriel and Jack had to bust Roadhog and Jamison out of prison, although the Sydney Opera house has been doomed ever since Roadhog was mentioned back in chapter 14
> 
> Fun fact 3: if all goes according to plan, there will be fifty chapters and it'll end up at about 170,000 - 200,000 words. take that with a grain of salt because last time I guessed the length it was:
> 
> "If I had to estimate, we're going to end with a clean 35 or 40 chapters and less than 150,000 words. We're getting close, folks!" 
> 
> which is obviously wrong
> 
> Fun fact 4: This entire chapter was written while listening to Jo Stafford's music. Mostly her cover of "Blue Moon".
> 
> chapter 41 out on monday! ciao!


	41. The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel plans things with Angela, avoids Jack's questions ( though not for long ), and they go to Mei's apartment to get her help. Unfortunately, someone else throws a wrench into the works...

“You understand your part?” 

“This is very, very dangerous. You understand, that I can only…” 

“Yeah. I do.” Gabriel leaned back in his chair.

They were in Angela’s ‘classroom’, sitting across from one another at her desk. A lamp in the corner offered bright but narrow light, and Angela had a radio softly playing music by some long-dead female singers from eighty years ago. The distant crooning of ‘ _Dream’, ‘Sunny Side of the Street’, ‘Blue Moon’,_ and a bunch of other ‘40s and ‘50s hits serenaded the two of them while they discussed potentially dying at two in the morning. 

He was filling Angela in on all his plans, including plan four, and she wasn’t happy about any of them. They’d been conversing with one another for the past hour, going in circles. You can’t do this, you  _ can  _ do this, I won’t be able to do that, this is dangerous, there has to be a better way… Angela and Gabriel poured over every possible detail that could go wrong, and every possible thing that could go right. 

“Amelie, you, and me are going to be the only people in on it.” Gabriel finished. “It’s safest that way.” 

“Someone else has to be in on it.” Angela poked a hole in his plan. “Someone has to restrain Jack.” 

“Roadhog. Roadhog’s got that hook- I’ll tell him when I recruit him for the meeting.” 

Angela sighed deeply, brushing back a lock of hair that’d come free. “Are you sure this is what you want?” 

“If I can’t reason with her… This is the best way. This is the  _ only  _ way. She’s going to kill the Shambali.” 

“I’m all for stopping Liao, Gabriel, but this feels… Like an unnecessary risk. You could back out of the whole thing…” 

“I told you what Mondatta said. She’s going to kill them someday, and now that we’re getting to this meeting, where she’s got the  _ Prophet  _ at her fingertips, she’s going to try to do something. We can’t back out now, or none of this is ever going to get fixed.” 

“You’re right,” Angela sighed. “I know my part. I’ll tell Amelie her’s…” 

“Thank you.” He sighed softly. “Thirteen days.” 

“I know, Gabriel. We’ll get through this.” 

“Do you know where the meeting is yet?” 

“A god volunteered his domain. A nature god, if I’m not mistaken… A faun. Ashton. I don’t know much about him, because he’s a very minor deity. Immortal, but not too particularly powerful.” 

“Where is it?” 

“Appalachian mountains. I have specific coordinates, if you need to give them to someone.” 

“Write ‘em down?” 

Angela scribbled on a slip of paper, then handed it to him. He pocketed it, and reclined back in his chair. 

There was something almost homely about this whole situation. It was somewhere close to two in the morning, but instead of sleepy dreariness, it was akin to the excitement he got as a child when his grandmother drove him to Denny’s late at night. A tingle of adventure at being up so late that he thought he’d lost when he was eight or nine years old. 

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight.” 

“I don’t think so, either.” Angela glanced ruefully towards the coffee mugs littering the right half of her desk. Golems had been coming in every twenty minutes or so, bringing new coffees without being prompted. Gabriel probably had enough caffeine to kill a small dog pumping through his veins, but that was alright. His heart wasn’t palpitating, his hands weren’t shaking, and he could still see straight. “Shall we go over the plan again?” 

“Yeah, alright.” Gabriel massaged his eyelids with his knuckles. “So, to start…” 

 

=

 

He woke up the following morning to Jack poking his face.

“God, my neck’s stiff,” Gabriel muttered, rubbing it and wincing.

“Were you in here all night?” Jack asked accusingly. “You said you’d come to bed at midnight.” 

“We got sidetracked.” Gabriel’s voice was still thick with sleep. “You know. Planning.” 

“That I wasn’t there for,” Jack responded tartly.

“Jack, you don’t need to be mad about it.” Gabriel shifted and laid his head back down on the desk. “Promise, you’re not missing anything.” 

“I don’t care  _ what  _ I’m missing out on, I care that you’re purposely excluding me from your plan.” 

“No need to be so anal about it.” He yawned.

“Gabriel!” Jack didn’t raise his voice often, and it caught Gabriel’s attention. “What are you trying to hide from me? What’s so  _ horrible  _ in your plan that you can’t tell me about it?” 

“Jack, I need you to trust m-” 

“No! Gabriel,  _ tell  _ me what’s going  _ on,  _ because from what it sounds like-” 

Escaping from awkward conversations was as easy as a thought. Gabriel teleported out of their impromptu war planning room and into his own Reaper room, making sure the door was shut. 

No more than a minute later, Jack slammed his fist on the door and Gabriel nearly jumped in fright at the sudden noise. 

“Gabriel! You can’t  _ hide  _ in there forever!” 

“Doesn’t need to be forever!” He called. “Thirteen days!” 

“You’re acting like a  _ child,  _ Gabriel, what the hell are you trying to keep from me!?” 

Shit. He could hear genuine frustration, genuine  _ anger  _ in Jack’s voice. 

Against his better judgement, he opened the door and Jack stomped in, looking positively monstrous. His hair had lengthened, stubble thickening into a silky, manelike beard. His teeth were longer and he had stubbly fingers tipped with claws.

“That’s the only smart decision you’ve made this morning,” Jack growled. “Now, I want to know exactly what the hell your  _ plans  _ are.” 

Telling lies to Jack was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “I wanted to talk to Liao. I knew you’d want to come with me, but I can’t have you there.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“You’re her friend.” 

“So are you!” 

“That was until-”  _ Until I felt her murder Ojal.  _ “Until I knew what I know now.” 

“What  _ do  _ you know?” 

“That Liao is going to try to kill people, and I can’t have you trying to wave the white flag, because when we turn our backs, she’s going to strangle us with it.” 

“Do you have any idea how  _ paranoid  _ you sound?” Jack asked, voice wrought with disbelief.

That made Gabriel pause.

“Para- Paranoid?” 

“Yes,  _ paranoid.  _ Have you considered asking  _ Liao  _ about all this before you decide she’s some kind of terrible demon?” 

“She’s the first Reaper, Jack. No good person is going to be the Reaper, and we both know that.” 

“What about you?” Jack prompted.

“Huh?” 

“I said,  _ what about you?  _ You’re a good person, you’re the Reaper-” 

“Don’t be stupid, Jack.” 

“Stupid? The worst thing you’ve done to me is jerk me around in circles over your stupid ‘plans’. An asshole would- I don’t know, hit me or-” 

“Shut up, Jack.” 

“No, I think this discussion’s been a long time coming-” 

“Jack, I said shut up-” 

Jack grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled Gabriel in for a kiss.  _ Melting  _ would be the best way to describe it- everything felt slower, calmer, and his tense muscles loosened. Jack held him up, and he let the griffin support a little bit of his weight.

When Jack pulled away Gabriel had to bite back a whimper. 

“You going to listen to me now?” Jack asked.

“Yeah.” Gabriel murmured, lips still tingling from Jack’s warmth. 

“Gabriel, you’ve sacrificed a lot.  _ I’ve  _ sacrificed a lot. We really can’t afford to not be honest with one another.” 

Gabriel exhaled slowly. “I don’t plan on talking to Liao.” 

“You’ve made up your mind about the Shambali already?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And?” 

“Liao is dangerous. Very dangerous. Zenyatta made me promise to not tell anyone, but I’m already on track for fucking things up. In the future, she kills me.” 

“ _ What?”  _

“Look, Jack, this is all-” A terrible, nervous laugh that bordered on hysteria. “Very complicated. I’m terrified and confused and I’m trying to not drag you into it.” 

“It’s too late for that.” Jack shook his head.

“Zenyatta laid out three futures for me. In one, Liao kills me. In another, we…” He trailed. 

“We what?” 

“Everyone dies, except for you and me.” Gabriel elected to not elaborate- if that future made  _ him  _ uneasy, he couldn’t even imagine what his description would do for Jack. 

Jack exhaled sharply.

“In the last one, we live.” Gabriel told him. “Listen, just… Sit down. I’ve got stuff to tell you. About Ojal and the Shambali and… Just… A lot.” 

Jack sat down heavily on the bed, and Gabriel sat down beside him. 

“It started with Torbjorn…” 

=

“This… Doesn’t look good for Liao.” Jack shook his head. “She would kill you? So  _ casually?”  _

During the conversation Jack’s features had gone from lionlike back to normal, which was a relief.

“I’m pretty sure the reason she didn’t want me to become the Reaper was because she didn’t want to have to kill me.” Gabriel folded his arms. “I’m not sure if she hates the djinn more than she likes me…” 

“Seeing as her entire village was killed by them and she’s _ still _ holding a grudge, I’d say she hates the djinn more.” Jack folded his legs. “I know this looks bad for her, but maybe we could talk to her first?” 

“We’ll get to her,” Gabriel promised. “For now, I want to talk with Mei. Mei-be she can help us?” Jack didn’t seem to have gotten the joke, so he repeated, “ _ Mei- _ be she can help us.” 

“I heard you the first time. I was just processing, because that’s literally the worst pun I’ve ever heard.” 

“Spoilsport.” 

“Uh-huh. Put on a coat and get breakfast before we leave, it might be chilly…” 

“Goddamn, Jack, didn’t realize you were my friggin’ mom.” 

“Mr. Dad,” He corrected, corner of his mouth quirking in a smile. 

“Shut up.” Gabriel rose off the desk, rubbing the back of his neck and giving a short wince. Sleeping on a desk was not something he’d ever recommend to anyone. “Where’s Angela?” 

“Amelie woke her up first and brought her to breakfast. Told me you were in here on her way down.” 

Gabriel headed down the stairs, heading for the dining room. He asked one of the golems for an apple, a glass of orange juice, and a few waffles, then headed to the hallway. His usual coat, the old Reaper’s fur-trimmed jacket, was hanging in its typical spot. He pulled on a pair of old ( but still sturdy ) boots, and deemed that good enough to satisfy Jack. He headed back to the dining room for breakfast, crunching on the apple as he slid his arms in the sleeves of his jacket. 

Jack was wearing clothes Gabriel had never seen before. A long blue coat with large white lapels, navy blue camo pants, and  _ armor.  _ His boots were armored, he had a chestplate, metal shoulder pauldrons, and gloves. 

“What the hell are you wearing?” Gabriel asked before he could help himself.

“My Strike-Commander uniform,” Jack sounded almost offended.

“Where the hell did you get it?” 

“Remember, back at Christmas, where you asked me if I’d ever experimented with making new clothes after I transform from griffin to human?” 

“Uh, vaguely.” 

“Well, I’ve been practicing. This is the only one I’ve managed to get right.” 

“Why are you wearing it?” 

“The yeti’s part of Overwatch, right? Should make her respect me, at least a little bit.” 

“If you say so.” 

Gabriel finished his waffles, drank his juice, and tossed the apple core away. “Alright. We’re gonna try her apartment first, and if she’s not there… Uh, we wait for her, I guess. She’s got a girlfriend with biceps as big as my head and I’m pretty sure she’s a werebear, so we have to be careful if they fight first and ask questions later.” 

“I’m ready as I’ll ever be.” Jack put on a brave face. “I’m pretty sure I could beat a werebear…” 

_ And a yeti?  _ “You’ll have me, too.” 

Gabriel extended his hand, and Jack took it. 

They ended up in Mei’s living room, and Gabriel was rather proud of himself for hitting the mark since he’d only ever visited here once.

There was a few more signs that the place was lived-in. Before, the house had been basically empty and clean, as though Mei weren’t around very much to make a mess. Now there was an entire box of protein bars strewn over the counter, as well as a carton of protein shakes and a singular chocolate cupcake. Mei’s ( mostly clean ) old couch was decorated with long gashes on the side of one of the arms, whilst a completely intact cat tree with a scratching post remained untouched beside it. 

The little monster that’d caused the couch’s battle damage was currently sitting on the top of it. The cat had sparkling blue eyes, long white fur, and a kinked ( though still enormously fluffy ) tail. She had a tag around her neck, on one of those safety snap-off collars, and a tiny silver bell that jingled with the slightest movement. Gabriel cautiously drew closer, and the cat glared at him but didn’t move. It tolerated him lifting up the tag, but its tail did swish in annoyance. The lettering on the tag read  _ Snowball,  _ and listed Mei’s address, as well as a short engraving on the back that implored the reader to bring her cat back. 

There was a laundry basket and a pile of fresh-smelling clothes laid out on the coffee table, as if someone had been doing laundry and been halted before they could finish. 

Jack roved over to the fridge in the kitchen, curiously perusing the contents. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Gabriel hissed. Although the apartment appeared to be abandoned, he felt a strange compulsion to whisper. 

“You can learn a lot about someone by looking around their home.” Jack whispered back. “Even if it’s inside their refrigerator.” 

“Well, did you learn anything?” Gabriel arched an eyebrow.

“I learned that the yeti doesn’t know that you don’t have to put wet cat food in the fridge.” Jack closed the fridge door with an air of finality.

“ _ Very  _ helpful.”

“You never know.” Jack examined a paper left on the counter, and Gabriel peered over his shoulder to look as well. It appeared to be a note taken off of the fridge, judging by the cellophane tape still stuck to the top. 

 

_ Dear Zarya, _

_ I’ve gone out for a little bit, we need milk & eggs & more peanut butter again. _

_ Snowball’s been fed, & I would like it if you clean her litter box while I’m away _

_ The repairman will be here tomorrow to fix the hole in the wall, so you don’t need to worry about fixing it. _

_ P.S. I’m getting some of the chocolate you like! _

_ ♡ Mei _

 

There was a hastily scribbled drawing of a cutesy-looking bear underneath. 

“Looks like we’ve got to wait,” Jack murmured. 

“How long do you think this note’s been here?” Gabriel asked in a whisper. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Wish she’d written a time on the damn thing.” Gabriel muttered, stepping away from the counter. “Might as well take a seat on the couch and wait until she gets b-” 

“Shut up,” Jack hissed suddenly, clapping his hand over Gabriel’s mouth.

Gabriel momentarily entertained the idea of biting him, but he decided to instead give Jack a silent  _ why did you do that  _ stare. Jack held a finger over his lips, silently shushing him, then removed his hand from Gabriel’s mouth. 

Gabriel caught on a second later.

Footsteps.  _ Loud  _ footsteps. The creak of wooden stairs. Fuck. 

_ What do we do?  _ Gabriel asked Jack with a silent look. 

_ I don’t know,  _ Jack’s face replied silently. 

_ You’re real helpful,  _ Gabriel shot him an exasperated glare. Jack shrugged helplessly.

“Hello?” A female voice called. 

A quick exchange of glances, a panicked  _ do we say something  _ answered with a  _ maybe?? _

“Hello!” Gabriel called, braver than he felt. The sudden breakage of the quiet almost made Gabriel wince, but he powered through the supreme feeling of being out of his depth. 

The person paused on the stairwell, as Gabriel heard no more footsteps.

“You do not belong in this house. You do not want to know what happens to thieves.” 

“We’re not thieves,” Gabriel objected.

“‘We?’” She repeated. 

_ Shit.  _

“Just me and my friend. We’re here to talk to Mei.” 

“How did you get in?” 

Gabriel shot a helpless look at Jack. He had a feeling that if he lied it would turn into a web of complications. 

“We teleported in.” 

“You are not normal, then? Not human?” 

“No.” 

“Hnh. Normally I would tear you to pieces, but now we will wait until Mei comes home. If she says she does not know you, I will tear your limbs off.” 

“That sounds fair,” Gabriel’s throat was dry. 

“Come out of the kitchen. Sit on the couch until she gets back.” She ordered.

Not like they had a choice. Gabriel gave Jack a conformational nod, and the two of them trooped into the main living room and sat on the cat-scratched couch. 

The woman on the stairs strode in front of them. Six feet tall, maybe more, with muscles that probably qualified more as boulders than actual human muscles. She was attractive, in a way that was more handsome than pretty. A scar decorated one of her brows, and pink hair fanned out in a short, cropped cut. Her eyes were a vivid green, her smile confident. She would look right at home in either a pricey suit or a tank top and short shorts. 

She was big, too. Not just due to muscles or fat, but her frame was  _ massive,  _ bigger than most men he’d ever met. She would never be a Victoria Secret model, even if she dropped all the muscle, but she looked perfectly suited to where she was. Gabriel admired it. Just a bit. 

“Zarya?” Gabriel guessed. “Mei’s girlfriend? We met once.” 

“Did we?” She asked. 

“It was a long time ago. Couple months, and it was for less than a minute.”

She frowned, obviously trying to place him. It came to her a few seconds later, and she snapped her fingers. “Ah, yes! The Reaper! Gabriel. Who’s your friend?” 

“He’s, uh, Jack.” 

“Hmm.” Her eyes raked up and down Jack’s figure. “Morrison?” 

“The very same.” Jack gave a slight nod.

“The Overwatch leader? The undefeated griffin?” 

Jack let some of his true form slip; his hair grew into a short mane, his teeth lengthened into fangs that he bared. 

“It is an  _ honor.”  _ Zarya murmured, dipping her head. “We have a similar organization to Overwatch in Russia…” 

“I’ve heard of it. I ordered Overwatch to collaborate when there was that snow troll blight thirty years ago.” 

“It was before my time.” A slight shake of Zarya’s head. “You were one of my heroes.” 

Jack was pleased. Not that he would ever admit it, but Gabriel could see it on his stupid face. Gabriel guessed it was probably rare that he found a fan, what with all that farming in rural Indiana and spending his winters in a dark, out-of-the-way ravine with only a hoard of munitions for company. 

“Thank you.” Jack inclined his head slightly. His fangs shrank into flat human teeth, his mane thinning into his close-cropped hair. “It’s an honor for me, as well.” 

“I have a question, though. Why are you and the Reaper here together?” 

“For Mei,” Gabriel stated plainly. 

“No, no, you misunderstand. Why are you here _ together?”  _

“I asked him to come,” Gabriel said, more obtuse than usual. 

“Let me rephrase. Why is the ex-leader of Overwatch and the Reaper together? Overwatch, as a rule, does not do very more than tolerate the Reaper. The last Reaper murdered more than one Overwatch member, as I recall…” Zarya stated hesitantly. 

“Revenge.” Jack said distantly. “It was out of revenge. The new Reaper is much more agreeable.” 

“Thanks.” Gabriel snorted. 

“Zarya, right?” Jack asked her. She nodded. “It’s a long story, Zarya.” 

“Mei only left thirty minutes ago. We have time.” 

“Gabriel and I have been working together for four months. He’s not a bad person or a bad Reaper. He just got unlucky.” Jack shook his head. “It’s been… A hard-forged friendship.” 

_ Friendship?  _

They were more than that, and Jack knew it, so why-? 

Jack’s heel lightly bumped into his own, and Gabriel realized why he’d said ‘friendship’ instead of ‘relationship’ or ‘lover’ or some other romantic shlock. Admitting you slept in the same bed as the Reaper every night to one of your fans was probably not going to leave the best impact with them. It was for posterity- Gabriel could get that. 

“I understand. Mei and I are very similar- A werebear and a yeti are not the type you would expect to get along.” A polite beat of silence. “So… Mei has mentioned the dispute to me. The djinn and Overwatch. Which way do you lean?” 

“I’m leaning to the Shambali. Jack’s undecided.” Gabriel supplied readily enough. “I need to hear Liao’s side, first, but she’s got personal bias. If I can’t strong-arm her into helping, we might need a new leader of Overwatch.” 

Jack shifted. “If Liao can’t lead Overwatch anymore, someone else will need to take the reigns afterwards.” 

“Are you thinking yourself?” Zarya looked skeptical.

“I would love to take the job again, but I can’t. Gabriel and I are friends, and it would look bad if we threw Liao off and I immediately became leader again. It’d look like we removed her just so I could be Strike-Commander, and that’s not the point of this case.” A shake of Jack’s head. “Tracer’s too irresponsible, Mei’s too indecisive-” 

“Pharah would be a good leader.” 

“How old is she now?” 

“Thirty-eight.” 

“Hm. She was responsible, dedicated… She left Overwatch, though, didn’t she?” 

“She would return if she was asked to lead.” Zarya shifted slightly. “Liao called an Overwatch meeting tomorrow. Pharah will be in attendance. Her loyalties still lay with Overwatch, even if she is no longer a part of it.” 

“Are you going? To the Overwatch meeting, I mean.” Gabriel prompted.

“Mei asked me to.” She lifted her chin slightly. 

“I’m guessing I’m not invited.” Gabriel folded his arms. 

“I will ask Liao.” 

“Is she here?” Gabriel asked. “In Santa Barbara, I mean.” 

“No. But I have a phone.” Zarya pulled a big Samsung phone out of her pocket, thumbs tapping away. After a minute or two, she put it away. “I asked her. Why do you want to talk to Mei?” 

“We need her support. Or, if not her support, we need to know she’s not going to go murderous on us.” 

“I get the feeling there is something you have not told us.” Zarya crossed her arms. 

“Yeah. Liao’s the first Reaper and she wants the Mantle back.” 

Zarya’s brow wrinkled, and she paused, hesitant. “I don’t…” 

“She’s connected with death.” Jack said gently. “You can smell it on her. Not as strongly as on Gabriel, but it’s there.” 

“I noticed.” Zarya said reluctantly. 

“She’s going to kill the leader of the Shambali.” Gabriel provided.

“Do you have any proof?” 

“He lead a revolt to murder her village back in the Construct War. Her parents, her friends, her family, her neighbors- It scars you.” 

This looked to deeply trouble the Russian, who shook her head and murmured, “Can I confess something to you?” 

“Of course.” Jack nodded slightly.

Zarya folded her arms. “It’s beginning again.” 

“ _ What?”  _ Jack and Gabriel said at the same time.

“The constructs in Russia are revolting. The djinn in Russia are revolting. We’re attempting to keep it contained, but we won’t be able to stop it without help.” It looked as though it hurt to say, and Zarya kept them pinned in a fierce glare that dared them to mock her country for needing help. 

“God,  _ no.”  _ Jack held his face in his hands. “We can’t afford to fight a long military campaign. Overwatch has been weak ever since the second world war-” 

“This is why I have supported Liao. She has promised me that she will kill the djinni in my homeland.” 

“She thinks that Mondatta is still leading the revolt,” Gabriel said, slowly. There was a gradually dawning sense of horror, realization that was sinking in slowly. “She’s going to use this to justify killing him.” 

“What if he  _ is  _ leading it?” Zarya asked fiercely. “What will you do-” 

“I’ll kill him myself, and every other construct. The Reaper was  _ made  _ to kill djinni.” It had all suddenly clicked. The power to devour souls, while universally applicable, was specifically hand-tailored to stop the reincarnation of the djinn. The Reaper’s teleportation, the Reaper’s ability to turn into smoke, the Reaper’s tendrils, it’s healing, all of it was designed to target djinn and constructs. Gabriel shook off the morbid thoughts and insisted, “But we have  _ no  _ proof he’s connected to any of this. Unless we get a confession, or some kind of evidence, he’s not guilty. Past actions don’t mean he’s doing the same thing in the present.” 

“Then how can you condemn Liao?” Zarya asked skeptically. 

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply.

Held it there for a second.

Then shut it. 

Zarya didn’t look happy at being right. She shook her head wordlessly.

“Looks like we’ll have to get answers from Liao herself.” Jack folded his arms. 

There was the sudden sound of the lock in the apartment door turning, and the door opened, with Mei toddling in, bearing the weight of several bags of groceries.

“Hi, Zarya! I’m ho-” She faltered upon sighting Gabriel and Jack on the couch. 

“Mei, good. We need you.” Zarya stood up and headed over to her, effortlessly accepting the weight of the groceries. “We have much talking to do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the original chapter title was "Liao", reflecting how she used to have a massive part in this chapter. Other beta titles include: "Zany Animal Realizes You Are Newly Optimizing Varied Activities", "Snowball", and "Mei's Marvelous Mate Makes Men Mad", as well as "Flip", "Second Crisis", and a handful of others. 
> 
> Fun fact 2: Working off that last fact, this chapter is currently the chapter with the most beta titles. By a LONG shot. 
> 
> Fun fact 3: There's about a thousand words of cut content from this chapter, and I was very reluctant to rewrite which is why it took so long to come out. Later today, the cut content will go up on my writing blog, legendary-bard.tumblr.com , just in case you wanted to know what the plot had formerly been. Most of it is going to be recycled for the next chapter, so spoilers, I guess...?
> 
> Fun fact 4: there's some references to the sequel that i'm quietly planning...


	42. Double Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Gabriel spend the day with Zarya and Mei.

“This doesn’t look good for Liao,” Mei said, slightly dismayed. 

“That’s what I said,” Jack frowned. 

“I am not sure I believe all of it.” Zarya pitched in. “Are you sure you did not hallucinate when this Torbjorn gave you the drink?” 

“It wasn’t a hallucination.” Gabriel shook his head. “I remember too much. I felt so  _ real.  _ And Mondatta confirmed it- He knew Ojal.” 

“Hnnh.” Zarya shook her head. “I am sure Liao can find a justification to not help the djinn. Resources are stretched thin in Overwatch. That is a good enough excuse.”

“I can rejoin. Gabriel can join,” Jack volunteered, voice edging on desperate. “The Reaper has collaborated with Overwatch multiple times before.” 

“It’s not enough,” Mei murmured. 

She was sitting on her countertop, legs swinging. There was a box of melting popsicles beside her, and every person in the room was either chewing on a formerly popsicle-clad wooden stick or licking a slightly dripping fruit-flavored treat. Gabriel chose grape. Jack told him grape was terrible. Gabriel told him to shove his cherry popsicle up his ass. 

“I think she’s right, Jack.” Gabriel sucked the drying popsicle stick for any hint of grape that might’ve lingered. “We’re not going to get this by giving Overwatch more manpower, not unless we’ve got hundreds of people tucked away somewhere. Even if you, me, Ana, Rein, Torbjorn, Ana, Hanzo, Genji, Zenyatta, Roadhog, Jamison, Angela, Amelie- even if  _ everybody  _ I’ve ever known joined, it wouldn’t be enough to fight a war. From the stuff I got from Ojal’s memories, Overwatch had thousands or tens of thousands of members during the first Construct war, and without Mondatta ordering the djinn to retreat, they would’ve lost, even with the Reaper’s help.” 

“This isn’t that large scale,” Jack argued. “The Russian outbreak is still small, Zarya said as much.” 

“Overwatch numbers hundreds.” Zarya shook her head. “They number thousands. Undoable.” 

Gabriel rifled around the popsicle box and tore off a plastic wrapper, slurping at the dripping grape-flavoured syrup. “Let’s focus on Liao before the Russian outbreak. We don’t have the manpower and I don’t have the time until I get this case done.”

Zarya made a slight, angry sound. “This is my  _ country.  _ It is personal.” 

“Liao’s going to butcher the construct’s spiritual leader. There are going to be more outbreaks all over the  _ planet  _ if she gets her way, not just in Russia.” Gabriel paced the kitchen floor. Jack remained seated and Zarya followed Gabriel with her eyes from where she was leaning against a tall kitchen cabinet. “Jack, we did a unit on the Shambali a month ago- We both know there’s going to be goddamn  _ chaos  _ if Mondatta gets killed, especially if it’s by the leader of Overwatch. It’s not going to just be constructs, too- There are pilgrims, both human and nonhuman, and I don’t think they’re going to be okay with Liao murdering him in cold blood.” 

Mei chewed anxiously on her popsicle. “Maybe we could talk to her?”

“She might be past the whole  _ reasoning  _ thing.” A slight shake of Gabriel’s head. “I don’t know. I just  _ don’t know.”  _

Jack gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. 

Zarya’s phone pinged noisily, and she checked it. “Liao says you have permission to join our meeting.” She stuffed it back in her pants pocket. 

“Well, that’s something, at least.” Jack leaned back in his chair, though not after snagging another dripping popsicle. “Maybe we can get some real answers.” 

“I guess we’re done here, then.” Gabriel shrugged. “We can go home.”

“Guess so.” 

“Where  _ is  _ home?” Mei asked. “Just in case we need to contact you.” 

Jack and Gabriel exchanged glances.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel began awkwardly.

Zarya arched an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve only ever left or gone there when I was unconscious or teleporting. It’s a forest in California, that’s all I got.” Gabriel shrugged.

“Should’ve asked Sombra to get a phone.” Jack murmured. 

“I’ll do it when we get home.” 

“Do you live together?” Zarya asked suddenly, green eyes sparking with interest. 

“Well, rent’s cheaper that way.” 

No one laughed. Dammit, Gabriel was losing his edge. 

“Would you like to stay here for the night?” Mei prompted quietly. “Then you won’t need to guess when or where the meeting is, because you can just come with us. Santa Barbara’s not LA, but it’s nice here.” 

Gabriel exchanged a glance with Jack, a wordless  _ what do you think?  _

“Amelie’s not going to be happy you skipped your training.” Jack replied. 

“This is more important than training.” 

“What kind of training?” Zarya asked curiously.

“Combat and lifting.” Gabriel folded his arms.

“I will be your substitute!” Zarya volunteered, a smile making her handsome face glow. “I am an Olympic lifter, I am sure I can help you.” 

Gabriel was tempted to ask her if being a werebear was cheating, but he felt like that might offend her, so he kept his mouth shut. 

“We’d both be grateful.” Jack said. “It’d be an honor.” 

Gabriel swore there were stars twinkling in the werebear’s eyes. “How much do you squat, Jack?” 

“Probably half the weight you do,” He laughed. “Gabriel’s got fifty pounds on my maximum, though- I think it’s his thighs.” 

Gabriel stopped pacing to kick Jack under the counter. 

“They are very big, very nice thighs.” Zarya observed, nodding in an almost sagely manner. 

“Thanks,” Gabriel folded his arms sourly. “I was also in active police duty for ten years instead of hiding in a dark little cave in the Los Padres Forest.” 

“Speaking of my ‘dark little cave’... You don’t mind if I leave for a bit? I won’t be gone for more than a few hours.” Jack cleared his throat.

“What? Where are you going?” 

“You said this is Santa Barbara, right?” He inclined his head towards Mei, who nodded. “The Los Padres Forest is practically brushing this city. I want to go check on my hoard- Four hours, at most. Mei, I’d appreciate-” 

“If I drove you to the edge of the forest? Sure.” 

“Thank you. I wouldn’t ask, normally, but a griffin the size of a truck isn’t going to go unnoticed, and-” Jack glanced at the windows- “it’s a cloudless day.” 

Zarya’s hand came down on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Looks like it is just me and you!” 

“I guess it is,” Gabriel shrugged slightly, trying to push aside any misgivings. “Jack, be careful.” 

“I’m more worried about you.  _ Don’t  _ get into any trouble, okay?” 

“Don’t need to worry about me.” A slight shake of his head. “Zarya can’t be that bad.” 

=

She was that bad. 

Loud Russian songs bellowed out from the speakers Zarya had hooked up to her phone. He had no idea what they said, but they sounded like marching tunes. The Russian yelling seemed more mocking than envigorating, though.

“Push yourself! Another!” Zarya encouraged. 

Gabriel bit his tongue to not bark the “FUCK OFF” he was about to yell. 

Apparently an entire room of Mei’s spacious apartment had been dedicated for Zarya’s lifting. It wasn’t as sophisticated or large as the massive gym that they’d built in the mansion, but Zarya claimed it worked for days she didn’t feel like hitting an actual gym. 

“I’m going to crush myself if I hit it again,” Gabriel insisted faintly.

“That is what a spotter is for!” She urged. “One more, then we will break.” 

“Break my goddamn arms, that’s what this’ll do,” Gabriel muttered. “Here goes…” 

A sharp inhale, and he lifted the two-seventy-five off the rack with some difficulty. It took some concentration to not let it fall on his chest and break his ribs- Zarya’s strong, barbell-calloused hands proved to be a surprisingly comfortable presence beside his own. 

“Come on!” Zarya encouraged. “It is a small weight. Very small! You are strong!” 

His biceps quivered pathetically, about to buckle and let it crash on his chest as he attempted to push back up. He must’ve looked really goddamn hilarious with his nose wrinkled, teeth grit, and eyes screwed up, but the goddamn thing was  _ heavy.  _

“I got it, I got it,” He gasped, reluctant to lose any shred of air from his lungs. Zarya stared down at him, and Gabriel imagined wordless encouragement in her face. 

He racked it. 

“Very well done!” Zarya trumpeted- Gabriel sat up, peeling his back off the strip of foam padding on the bench, leaving behind a dark puddle of sweat. Zarya slapped him on the shoulder, beaming broadly, then wiped her newly damp hand off on Gabriel’s pants. “I knew you could do it.” 

“Thanks.” Gabriel stood up, shaking like a leaf in a storm, grabbing a towel from where it’d been haphazardly draped over the set of dumbbells in the corner. He wiped up the pool of sweat he’d left on the bench, then cleaned off his face and chest. His Reaper coat, his shirt, and boots had all been thrown on the floor by the door, leaving him in a pair of pants.

Zarya slid into his spot on the bench and effortlessly pumped the 275, shooting Gabriel a coy, amused grin after she’d done ten easy reps. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Gabriel scrubbed his temples after a droplet of sweat trickled down the side of his face. “I could do that if I had that many muscles.” 

“You have to  _ build  _ them.  _ Nourish  _ them.” Zarya racked the bar and kissed her right bicep teasingly. “Love them.” 

“I can do maybe one out of three of those.” 

“Good enough.” Zarya rumbled, amused. She sat up, rolling her shoulders experimentally. “So, your scars…” 

“What about them?” Gabriel asked, glancing down at his abdomen. There was a handful of them- knife fights, gun fights, an accident with a switchblade when he was thirteen… They had formerly been pink and faded, but after the couple of months he’d been the Reaper, they’d become a muted black that occasionally wisped dark steam. 

“They were pouring smoke. I thought they were burning.” 

“It’s a Reaper thing.” 

“And your eyes?” 

“Red, right?” 

“They became redder when you were straining. I could have sworn your teeth grew sharper, as well.” 

“Teeth?” Gabriel subconsciously swiped his tongue over his teeth, checking if any were unusually pokey. Nope.

“Could have been my eyes.” Zarya dismissed. 

“Hope so. Never felt my teeth ever get sharper before.”

_ Please not a new power. Holy shit, not a new power, please.  _

Did not need to be leaning in to kiss Jack only to accidentally bite his face off with razor-sharp teeth. Jesus Christ, did Gabriel  _ not  _ need that.

“I made peanut butter shakes when you were doing pushups.” Zarya prompted him.

“Why peanut butter?” 

“Good for protein. Healthy fats, too.” 

“Alright…” 

He followed Zarya into the kitchen, and she handed him a cup. Gabriel drank. Thick, with the consistency of melted ice cream or a smoothie. Not syrupy sweet like a smoothie, though, which was an interesting choice… Zarya handed him a bottle of chocolate syrup and he liberally drizzled it into the shake. Zarya didn’t take the chocolate syrup, but she did eat the chocolate cupcake that’d been on the counter. When she noticed Gabriel looking, she swallowed a mouthful and explained with a simple, “Reward for lifting well.” 

“So, the Crisis in Russia…” 

Zarya looked up warily, licking frosting off her chops. 

“Do you know anything about it?  _ Anything  _ that might prove Mondatta’s innocence or guilt?” 

“The rumor is a powerful sorcerer is controlling the constructs, even the djinn. I have yet to see proof of this.” 

“A sorcerer?” Gabriel echoed. 

“Yes.” 

“This rumor based on anything?” 

“The constructs in Russia seem much more controlled than independant. They march in lockstep, attack as if something is controlling them. The djinn we have captured are blank-eyed and refuse to answer questions even with thorough interrogation. It is almost as though they aren’t all there.”

“Which is different than what happened when Mondatta ordered them in the first war.” 

“The accounts of the Construction War claim each soldier was independent, with only guidance from djinn commanders.” Zarya folded her arms. 

“So someone is controlling them.” Gabriel shook his head. “And we have no idea who. Fucking perfect.” 

“Yes.” Zarya murmured softly. 

There was a short silence. Zarya sipped her drink. Gabriel sipped his.

“So.” Zarya said plainly.

“So.” Gabriel repeated.

“You and Jack…” 

“What about me and Jack?” 

Zarya seemed to be looking for a polite way to ask. “Are you together?” 

Gabriel thought about acting obtuse and saying “ _ well, yeah, we arrived here together, didn’t we?”  _ but figured Zarya probably deserved better than that. “Yeah.” 

“Who asked who?” 

“I asked.” 

Zarya nodded sagely. “I asked Mei. I was scared. So sure she would say no.” 

“I was drunk. Made me a little less scared.” 

“I may have had a shot of vodka to steady myself.” The corner of her mouth quirked in a slight smile. 

Zarya was almost a perfect stranger. In that way, it was almost easier to talk about this kind of thing. “Are you ever worried she’ll find out something about you and leave for someone else?” 

Zarya’s brow raised, but she didn’t pry. “No. She loves me. I love her. I don’t think there is anything I could say or do to make her stop loving me.” 

“I wish I could be that confident with Jack.” Gabriel gulped down the rest of his drink to hide any facial expression he might’ve made. 

“It sounds like you need to talk to him.” 

“Probably.” 

“I may be able to help.” Zarya volunteered. “Can you tell me what this… this ‘something’ you are worried about is?”

Gabriel shook his head mutely.

“Is it personal?” 

“Very.” 

“Ah. I will not pry, then.” She tossed the rest of the cupcake in her mouth and swallowed. “Come on. We have another set to do.” 

Gabriel put his cup in the sink and breathed deeply.

“Can we put it down to two fifty?” 

“No.” 

 

=

 

Mei arrived home before Jack. 

She walked in on Gabriel and Zarya, who were debating their preference for types of meat. Zarya was making a claim for steak while Gabriel countered with turkey. 

“Lots of protein!” 

“But expensive,” Gabriel reminded her. “Turkey tastes good and still affordable. You’re not gonna get steak as a lunchmeat.” 

“That’s not  _ real  _ meat,” Zarya criticized.

“Tastes like it.” Gabriel argued. 

Mei’s cheery voice rang from the doorway: “I’m home, guys!” 

“This is not done,” Zarya told him. “You have not lived until you have had bear steak.” 

“‘Bear steak’?” Gabriel echoed. “No way anyone’s ever looked a bear and thought  _ I’m gonna filet that _ .” The implications of  _ bear steak,  _ combined with Zarya, suddenly combined to create a disturbing picture. “Wait a minute,  _ you’re  _ a- _ ”  _

“Is anyone hungry?” Mei interrupted. “We have leftover stir-fry…” 

“What’s in it?” Gabriel asked suspiciously. 

“Chicken,” Mei provided. Zarya and Gabriel exchanged glances, neither one of them able to refuse now that it wasn’t one of the other’s defended meats. “White rice. Green beans, broccoli, a few mild peppers-” 

“That’s fine by me. Just so long as there’s no bear steak.” Gabriel pulled back a chair. “What time is it?” 

“One thirty-four.” Zarya glanced down at her phone. 

Mei reheated the stir-fry and doled it between the three of them. 

Good stuff. There was something satisfying about scarfing down hot food, and leftovers or not, Mei was a good cook. He was a little iffier on the broccoli- sure, it was  _ good,  _ but broccoli was broccoli. Nonetheless, he ate it without ( verbal ) complaint. 

“So, how long have you been-?” 

“A few years.” Zarya provided. “We met at an ice skating rink. Mei missed the cold of her mountain home. I missed the cold of my home, as well. We both had been coming there for a few days- She approached me and asked me how I was doing. And then it became a thing. I would go to the rink after a workout. I would talk to her. I would go home. I thought she was a human, but when I saw her become a yeti-” Zarya’s eyes sparkled. “I knew I was in love.” 

“When did that happen?” Gabriel asked. “I kinda get the feeling that people don’t go around in public shapeshifting into bears or wolves or birds or yetis.” 

“Someone stole my purse when we were in the rink,” Mei recalled. “I went to chase after them, and I might’ve lost my temper-” 

“She was big! Strong!  _ Beautiful!”  _ Zarya recalled. 

“Nobody saw me except Zarya and the thief,” Mei hugged herself self-consciously. “Zarya calmed me down and we brought the purse snatcher to jail.” 

“The thief wasn’t freaked out that you were a yeti?” Gabriel asked, not able to stop his disbelief. 

“There are some simple magic spells Overwatch uses,” Mei provided. “They lock away memories of the supernatural unless they’re triggered again.” 

“Ah. That happened to me, with Amelie, the first time she…” An uncomfortable memory. A mortal officer versus a female Reaper. So much uncertainty. At least it turned out alright in the end. “I got my mind wiped.” 

“Sorry,” Mei apologized meekly. 

“Not your fault. Definitely not your fault.” Gabriel shook his head.

Zarya took it upon herself to continue the story. “Mei gave me her address. I went over there that night and asked her to be my girlfriend.” 

“I said yes,” Mei covered her hand with her mouth, though it looked to be subconsciously. “I mean, we’d been talking for weeks and weeks and we had a lot in common-” 

“We told ours,” Zarya proclaimed. “Now I would like to know yours’ and Jack’s.” 

“‘Yours’ and Jack’s’?” Mei echoed.

“They are together. Dating. Gabriel told me while you were gone.” 

“Oh! Congratulations, Gabriel!” Mei squeaked. “I didn’t know!” 

“Jack didn’t want to tell you,” Gabriel grimaced slightly. “It’s alright. Mine was kind of weird. It started when Angela kidnapped me…” 

It took a long time to explain- to jot down all the significant parts of their relationship, carefully scooping out choice parts, like when Gabriel had accidentally let a rampaging Jack free or the first time he’d asked Jack if he could be the small spoon. The first one was a stupid mistake, and the second one… Zarya and Mei didn’t need to know. In fact, the only one who needed to know was Jack. 

He transitioned away from their history and Zarya and Mei simply let him ramble about Jack. 

“Did you know his birthday’s on the Fourth of July? I called bullshit, but it  _ actually  _ is. He made us go to his house to get his fucking birth certificate to prove it.” 

Mei and Zarya both expressed their amusement at the fitting birthday.

“He’s also a huge geography nerd, I swear. He’s been trying to teach me, but I’m not gonna remember where  _ Uruguay _ or  _ Austria  _ or  _ Seychelles  _ is.” 

Mei politely inquired as to what Seychelles was.

“Tiny island, smallest country in Africa.” Gabriel said dismissively. “Directly east of Tanzania and Kenya.” 

Mei and Zarya exchanged tiny smiles.

“What?” 

“Nothing, nothing.” Zarya assured. “Keep going.” 

Gabriel continued to regale them with short tales of all Jack’s small deeds. How the only field of study he ever had trouble with was psychology. How Jack occasionally shed feathers at night. One time he’d woken up on the floor to find a truck-sized griffin occupying the entire mattress.

Mei and Zarya didn’t inquire as to his sexual proclivities, which placed the both of them leaps and bounds ahead of Genji. 

Eventually Gabriel just ran out of shit to say. Mei made popcorn and they watched an animated movie about a crotchety old man, a comic relief dog, and a young Asian boy. Mei was tearing up in the first five minutes. 

A few minutes after the credits, there was a loud knock from the door. Gabriel got up to open it, letting Mei and Zarya stay comfortably cozy next to one another.

Jack proved to be on the other side of the door- Gabriel stepped back to allow him past the threshold.

“How’s your hoard?” 

“I was worried it’d be flooded after the rains in January, but it looks okay. My hoard was a couple feet off the ground, and none of it got wet or rusted. There are a  _ lot  _ of plants down there, though. I’ll have to weed them later.” 

“Planning on going back soon?” Gabriel asked. 

“Probably next winter, but that’ll be to move my hoard. I kind of think the mansion’s my home too, now.” 

Gabriel hesitated a moment, then stepped outside to stand beside Jack, closing the door behind him. Didn’t need Zarya or Mei to hear this. Jack looked concerned, and it made Gabriel slightly… Uncomfortable. Goddamn, Jack was reading him like a book.

“Maybe a little morbid to ask, but what’ll you do if I die before you?” He tried to sound casual, but how the hell did you make  _ that  _ sound casual?

A glint of unease entered Jack’s eyes. “I’ll leave the mansion if the next Reaper tells me to, I guess. Might stay with Ma and Pa full time.” 

“What if the next Reaper  _ doesn’t  _ tell you to leave?” 

“I’ll stay and help them, I guess. I’ve gotten kind of used to the place.” The pause was precarious. “Don’t do anything stupid, Gabriel.” 

“You know me. Gabriel and stupid don’t go together unless there’s an ‘isn’t’ inbetween.” 

Jack let out an amused snort, shaking his head slightly. “I’m being  _ serious.  _ I have something for you.” 

Without ceremony, he reached into his coat and offered out a pistol. Police-issue, looked like Gabriel’s old Glock 22. Serial number scratched off, painted over black. Obviously had been through a tumble or two- scratched up, but presumably still functional. 

Gabriel feigned an excited gasp. “Is it a puppy?” 

“It’s a gun.” Jack rolled his eyes, but his exasperation didn’t penetrate his smile. “Take it.” 

Gabriel took it. Safety already on. “Does it actually work?” 

“I tested it before I left. You might want to clean it, though.” 

Gabriel looked at it from a few more angles, then nodded. “Thank you. Need to ask Angela or Torbjorn or Sombra or someone for a holster…” 

Jack paused for a second, fumbling with something around his leg. A second later he took whatever it was off, offering it to Gabriel. A thigh holster,  _ Christ.  _

“No offense, but your legs are puny, that’s not gonna f-” 

“It’s adjustable.” Jack told him. “Look, I just- I figured you’d feel safer if you had one. Even in the magical world, bullets are still bullets. You might not be able to kill a werebear or a vampire with a bullet, but you can seriously hurt them or cripple them badly. That, plus being the Reaper-” 

He was starting to ramble, and Gabriel shut him up with a hug. 

“Thanks,” He whispered into Jack’s ear. 

“No worries.” Gabriel squeezed a little tighter, then pulled away. Jack’s ears were slightly red, as were his cheeks, but he cleared his face up quickly. 

The holster was a little low for comfort, and he was pretty sure on sheer instinct he was going to grab for his belt instead of his thigh, but it meant he didn’t have to jam the Glock into his pocket like a hick who didn’t know the barest thing about firearm safety. 

“Let’s go inside,” Jack coughed. Gabriel lead the way.

Mei suggested couple games to pass the time- Jack was about to deny that he and Gabriel were one, and Gabriel had to reluctantly inform him that they already knew. He got a light slap and a few words of admonishment for giving it away, but Jack wasn’t that pissed about it. 

Dinner was short and quick; Mei ordered two large pizzas that were cleared away by the ravenous monsters and Reaper. After all of it had been finished, it was leaning towards later in the night. Zarya grabbed the vodka in the cabinet and proposed they play a game of “Never Have I Ever”, with Zarya doling out vodka for everyone and Mei bringing water to chase it down with.

“Never have I ever,” Gabriel paused, considering. “Left fur in the bed.” 

The three transhumans simultaneously downed their glasses of vodka. 

“Never have I ever,” Jack began, “Woke up and made my partner check around the room for monsters.” 

Gabriel angrily took a drink, rolling his eyes. To his surprise, Mei also poured and downed a shot. “That’s cheap, Jack.” 

“So was the one about fur, considering we all have it.” He was unapologetic, it looked like. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Mei whispered to Gabriel. “I make Zarya do it, too.” 

“You’re an eight foot tall yeti, what the hell could scare you?” Gabriel asked.

“And you are the bedtime story we tell to children to make them behave.” Zarya pointed out. “You are the very…” Zarya seemed to be searching for a word. She jostled Mei slightly, flagging her down for help. “It means the biggest. The most of something.”

“Epitome?” Mei suggested.

“Yes, thank you.” She turned to Gabriel. “You are the very  _ epitome  _ of scary.” 

Gabriel snorted, but didn’t argue.

“Never have I ever… shot anyone,” Zarya declared boldly.

Mei, Jack, and Gabriel all kicked back a drink. Mei poured everyone a small glass of water and they drank gratefully.

“Even you, Mei?” Gabriel asked, licking a droplet of water that’d spilled out of the corner of his mouth.

“I am an officer,” She said, a touch sadly. “Sometimes you have to.” 

“Amen to that.” Gabriel murmured. Jack caught his eye. Jack’s face spoke for itself, an amused  _ Remember when you shot me?  _ Gabriel gave a short, apologetic nod. 

“Never have I ever…” Mei started. “Ooh! I know. Never have I ever killed anyone.” 

Gabriel’s face twisted into an ugly scowl. He hesitated a moment- Zarya and Jack drank their shots.

“Does it count if they were revived afterwards?” He asked. 

“No.” Jack shook his head and Gabriel’s shotglass remained untouched. 

“Never have I ever…” Gabriel began slowly. “Joined Overwatch.” 

Jack made an indignant noise. “ _ That’s  _ not fair!” 

“Take a drink, lily-white.” Gabriel nudged him with his elbow. Jack rolled his eyes and took the shot- As did Mei. Zarya poured half of a shot. 

“Why half?” Gabriel asked, puzzled. 

“She’s only kind of joined,” Mei said.

“So she hasn’t joined-” 

“I don’t want to miss the chance on a drink.” The corner of Zarya’s mouth turned up in a grin. 

Jack threw a sharp look directly at Gabriel, and with the slight slur of a man who was just feeling his alcohol: “Never have I ever  _ been the Reaper.”  _

“ _ What?  _ That’s not fair!” Gabriel objected. 

“Get over it,” Jack shot him a clumsy grin. 

“Whatever,” Gabriel seethed, sounding more angry than he actually was. “Anybody know how many I’m up to?” 

“Ten?” Jack supplied, but it was more of a question than an answer. “No… One more, I think. Nine.” 

“That’s one less.” Gabriel nudged him.

“What? Oh, yeah.”

Mei looked to be a sleepy drunk- She laid her head on Zarya’s shoulder and Zarya gave her a gentle tap to try to wake her up.

“Never have I ever…” Zarya thought for a minute. “Drank whiskey.” 

Jack and Gabriel ruefully took shots. 

Mei, who was more or less awake now, attempted to pour them all some water. Zarya took over when she spilled it, and everyone around drank the offered glasses. 

“Never have I ever,” Mei blinked, trying to clear some of the alcoholic fog. “Been to the zoo…” 

“I should take you there.” Zarya nudged Mei slightly. “I pretended to be an escaped bear once. Lots of fun!” 

“Zarya, you shouldn’t do that.” Mei gave her a soft, admonishing slap to the upper arm. “That’s mean!” 

“Nobody was hurt,  _ moya snezhinka.  _ It was fine.” Zarya assured her. 

Jack took a shot. Zarya took a shot. Gabriel didn’t.

“The Lincoln Park Zoo is impressive.” Jack told Gabriel. “We should go, the next time we visit my parents. It’s a free-entry zoo, you don’t need money.” 

“I’ll help you break into the lion exhibit,” Gabriel nodded, already formulating a plan. “Then you can pretend to be one…” 

“Gabriel…” 

“Yeah?” 

“That’s  _ brilliant.”  _ Jack clumsily grabbed his shoulder, head bobbing appreciatively.

“Thank you, thank you.” Gabriel attempted to do a bow, but when he leaned forward his stomach gave a sickening lurch. His back thudded against the couch cushions again. “Ugh.”

They sat there in silence for a moment. Mei’s eyelids fluttered shut. 

“Hey,” Jack nudged Gabriel, a slur blurring his voice. “It’s your turn.” 

“Oh, shit, really?” Gabriel’s brow furrowed. “Oh, fuck, yeah. Uhhh… Never’ve I ever... left California…” 

“Yeah you have,” Jack argued. 

“Oh, yeah… Never’ve I ever, you know, left California…” He snapped his fingers clumsily. “Without teleporting.” 

Everyone took a drink and Gabriel snickered to himself. 

“Never have I ever…” Jack made a wide, grand gesture. “Dated a human who’s not the Reaper.” 

Gabriel was the only one to take a shot. 

“Hmph.” 

“I think Mei is done,” Zarya said, shaking her slightly. The yeti appeared to be out of it- lightly snoozing on Zarya’s shoulder. 

“I’m not yet,” Gabriel insisted. “Skip her turn.” 

“Hmm.” Zarya studied the two remaining men. “Never have I ever… Been a man.” 

There was a chorus of complaints from the two of them, but they reluctantly drank. 

“Jack, you’re looking a little wobbly.” Gabriel pat the griffin’s shoulder, smirking indulgently. He might’ve been starting to sway a little bit. “You wanna quit?” 

“No,” He gave Gabriel a glare. “Your turn, Gabe.” 

“Never have I ever… Transformed into a monster in public.” Gabriel volunteered. Neither Zarya or Jack touched their glasses. “Fuck, really?” 

“We’re not that dumb,” Jack attempted to thump Gabriel’s shoulder with his hand, but missed. “Uhhhh… Never have I ever… Gone skinny dipping.” 

Untouched glasses, again. 

“It’s too cold in Russia,” Zarya shook her head. 

“I can barely swim.” Gabriel provided. 

Jack made a guttural noise of unhappiness. 

“Let me show you how it is done,” Zarya declared. “Never have I ever dated a man.” 

Gabriel and Jack reluctantly kicked back their shots. 

Gabriel was about to be all smart and say  _ “never have I ever dated a woman”,  _ but it wasn’t true and he fumbled to find words in his blank, alcohol-fuddled skull. “Ehhh… Never’ve I ever...  _ Not  _ gotten handcuffed by Mei.” 

The two drunken people beside him attempted to unravel what Gabriel meant. 

“I think that’s cheating,” Jack said slowly. 

“Shut up an’ drink.” 

Jack took a shot.

Gabriel glanced at Zarya, who looked back at him with inebriated innocence. She made no move for her glass.

“Kinky,” Gabriel murmured. 

“Very,” Zarya nodded, a drunken smile spilling across her face. 

Jack massaged his brows. “Nnnhh. Never have I ever… Failed a test.” 

Gabriel and Zarya kicked back a shot each. 

“Bullshit y’never failed a test,” Gabriel stabbed an accusing finger in what he hoped was Jack’s direction. His vision was getting blurry and he was feeling kind of… vague. “Nobody’s that perfect. Not even you.” 

“Didn’t fail a single one,” Jack insisted. 

“Filthy liar,” Gabriel swayed in his chair. 

“You don’t know jack,” The griffin insisted.

There was a pause and all three of them burst out laughing. It was loud enough for Mei to stir, mumbling something incoherent in Chinese. 

“I think we should be done,” Zarya pet Mei’s hair softly. “I will be taking her to bed.” 

“To the guest room, Jack!” Gabriel trumpeted.

“Can you even get up?” Jack asked him, brows furrowed.

“Can you?” He challenged. 

“Yeah, you watch-” Taking a great deal of effort, Jack pushed himself off the couch, staggering and knocking over one of the glasses of water. It landed on the carpet, so it didn’t shatter- it did spill water all over the carpet, though. Jack mumbled “oops” and leaned heavily on the back of the couch for support. 

“Mei,” Zarya’s voice was drowsy with the undercurrent of alcohol. “Get up…” 

Jack extended a wavering hand to Gabriel. “C’mon. Where’s the guest bed?” 

“Uhhh… Somewhere…” Gabriel thought hard. “Uhhn, it’s over there.” He pointed and Jack managed to follow, sighting the door to the bedroom. 

Zarya seemed to have given up on moving Mei upstairs to their bedroom. She gently shifted Mei on her side, snuggling up behind her and throwing an arm over her chest. 

“We should do that,” Gabriel said faintly. 

“We’re gonna get a real bed first.” Jack insisted. 

“Sure,” With Jack’s help, Gabriel managed to get to his feet. The two of them drunkenly shuffled towards the guest bedroom door, fumbling with the knob. It took a bit, but they managed to get the door open. 

“Big spoon,” Gabriel called dibs.

Jack’s head bobbed in what might’ve been either a nod or something drunken and unintended. He collapsed on the bed- Gabriel roughly pushed him over, making an angry noise of protest.

“Get out of the way, I’m supposed to be big spoon,” Gabriel tried to say. It managed more like “Move, ‘m spoon”, but Jack was pliant and easy to push over. 

Gabriel climbed into bed, figuring the covers would be too hard to deal with, and snuggled up close to Jack. 

That evening was fun.

He wished he could say as much for the morning after.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness of this chapter! Hopefully the length and the fluff make up for it!
> 
> originally this was a much heavier chapter, but I decided on something much more lighthearted since shit's about to hit the fan real fast & jack and gabriel haven't had that much time to just hang out
> 
> fun fact: this chapter was originally called "I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire", which ( God willing ) will be the next chapter's actual title. yes, it's an Ink Spots reference. I love them. 
> 
> fun fact 2: this chapter's title, Double Date, is inspired by chapter 12 of "Life Keeps Goin' On", which is also called "Double Date".
> 
> I'd also like your opinion- this fic doesn't have very many tags, and I was wondering if any of you had any suggestions as to what I should tag it with. There's a lot of content in here, and I don't feel it's appropriately labeled anymore.


	43. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel meets Tracer and opens up about his parents.

Gabriel woke up when the cat climbed on him. 

Snowball or Snowflake or whatever the stupid beast’s name was clambered all over his shoulders, scratching up his back. Gabriel rolled over, making an irate noise, which roused Jack from his own slumber. The cat skittered out in fright, hissing spitefully as it went. Horrible little beast. 

“What the hell,” Jack sat up and winced, cupping his forehead. Gabriel made a miserable noise akin to a dying animal and curled up when Jack scooted away from him. 

“We have to get dressed,” Jack nudged him. “The meeting. With Liao.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“You’re the asshole who said, ‘Hey, Zarya, I think taking shots right before the meeting with Liao tomorrow is a great idea!’” Jack snapped back.

“You’re the fuck who said yes!” Gabriel barked, head pulsing. “Ugh, go ask Mei and Zarya for some aspirin-” 

“Do it yourself.” Jack replied acidly, sitting up and getting to his feet. He leaned on the nearest wall for support, covering his eyes with one of his hands.

“Way to be a huge bitch, Jack.” Gabriel complained. 

“ _ You’re  _ a huge bitch,” Jack shot back. 

Gabriel wanted to argue more, but his head was starting to pulse painfully and any more argument was going to make him feel worse. He accepted the ‘you’re a huge bitch’ and pressed his face against the pillows. Head hurt. Stomach was empty and queasy. He felt like he was spinning, even while laying still and not moving in the slightest. Could be worse, though- If they didn’t have all the water last night, he’d probably feel even more terrible. 

“Jack,” He whined. It felt like it’d been hours since he last spoke, but it’d probably been less than a minute. “Come back to bed.” 

He keenly missed the warmth of the other man’s body next to him. He thumped the mattress, to accentuate his point. 

“Gabriel. We’ve got Liao to deal with.” 

“Nghhhhh…” 

“Don’t whine. We made our bed, now we have to lie in it.” 

“There’s only one bed I want you lying in, Jack, get  _ over  _ here.” 

There was soft pad of bare footsteps back towards the bed, then a heavy dip as Jack climbed back beside him.

“Little or big?” 

“Little,” Gabriel murmured. He rolled over onto his side, back against Jack’s chest. They comfortably fit together- Jack had one arm around Gabriel’s waist, his forehead against the curve of Gabriel’s skull, his nose somewhere near the knot at the base  of Gabriel’s neck. Light breaths tickled his skin, and he was momentarily grateful Jack kept himself clean-shaven. Gabriel could only wonder how Jack managed to sleep with Gabriel’s beard scratching the back of his neck and shoulders.

The most important part, in Gabriel’s opinion, was the warm presence of Jack behind him. A broad, warm chest, sturdy and strong. Before Jack, Gabriel had difficulty sleeping on his side unless his back was against a wall. A paranoid habit, true, and he’d never been shanked or killed just for exposing his back as he slept, but he couldn’t shake it ever since he was a kid. It’d been his father who warned him. Gabriel had been seven years old, and his father had come into Gabriel’s room in their terrible little apartment, waking him for an iron-whispered lecture.

_ “Mocoso, stop sleeping like that. Do you know what happens to little boys who sleep on their bellies or sleep on their sides? They get killed. Someone will come in here and put a knife in your back, and you won’t hear it while you sleep. Then who will make money for Papá when you’re dead? Sleep on your back, idiota- you can attack back if someone stabs your chest, and if you’re good for anything you’ll kill the pendejo who does it. Maybe he’ll have something valuable on him…”  _

He’d gotten a slap to the face to sink in the message. His father had left. 

Gabriel didn’t sleep that night, and he’d never slept on anything but his back for the next decade and a half. He broke the habit, more or less, after his time in police academy, but he’d never shaken the feeling of unease sleeping on his side brought, and he found himself incapable of actually falling asleep on his belly. The only notable exceptions he could think of was with Jamison and Jesse, his first night at Ana’s.

“Thanks,” Gabriel murmured. Jack could be a hardass sometimes, and catty when hungover, but Gabriel didn’t blame him for the latter in the slightest. 

“I don’t want to get up either,” Jack sighed into his neck. “Do you know what time it is?” 

Gabriel opened his eyes to squint at the flat beam of light shining from under the door. Greyed and flat, suggesting either clouds or sunrise-ish. “Early.” 

“How early?” 

“I don’t have a watch.” 

Jack’s bicep flexed, pulling Gabriel closer. Heat radiated off of Jack’s belly and chest, and Gabriel felt like he could melt into it. 

Then the door opened, bright light burning directly into Gabriel’s retinas, the feeling roughly akin to getting stabbed in the eye sockets with an ice pick. 

“Fuck off!” Gabriel barked immediately, shielding his eyes from the light and trying to fight the sudden urge to eject everything from his stomach. 

“Whoa, hostile.” The door suddenly shut, and a woman he’d never seen waltzed in, carrying two glasses of water. “I’m only poppin’ in for a bit, love.” 

“Tracer?” Jack asked muzzily. “Tracer, is that you?” 

“Oh- Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-” the woman went bright red, her lips pulling back like she’d just bit into a lemon. “I’ll give you some privacy, sorry!” 

She hastily left the glasses of water on the nightstand, starting to fumble in her pockets for something.

“No, no, Tracer, it’s alright-” Jack assured her, starting to sit up. “You can stay.” 

Gabriel realized the position he was currently in- being the little spoon in front of a  _ stranger- _ and elbowed Jack in the ribs, pulling away from his embrace and giving him a light shove to get some distance. Gabriel’s stomach heaved and his body wailed pathetically in protest, but he got to his feet and braced a hand on the wall to steady himself. 

“Who the hell are you?” Gabriel asked, raking a hand through his sweaty, unwashed bedhead hair. It was a comfort gesture more than anything else; the nails scratching over his scalp felt good in contrast to the pulsing pain and lightheadedness from standing up so abruptly.

“Lena Oxton! Overwatch, pilot, teleporter- Most people call me Tracer, though!” 

She had an accent. Cockney British, bubbly and cheerful. Too bubbly, too cheerful, for a hungover Reaper to deal with. She sounded like she ought to be a kindergarden teacher or something. 

Tracer was short. Less than five and a half feet- 5’3, 5’4, 5’5, maybe? Somewhere in that range. She had spiky brown hair, sticking up all over the place as though it needed a good brushing. Brown eyes, a friendly smile, a dusting of light freckles across her cheeks. Piercing in her ears. Lightskinned. She wore an aviator jacket, with a union jack on right shoulder and a collar decorated with wool. She had long, knee-high boots, black leather. A white scarf, with one of the ends thrown casually over her shoulder. Gradient yellow-orange leggings.

Jack stood up beside Gabriel, looking a little confused from Gabriel’s elbowing and shoving. “Good to see you.” 

“Same here!” She pressed one of the glasses of water into his hands, then two little white tablets. “Mei and Zarya told me you guys had a real bender last night, so I thought I’d get you some water-” 

“Thank you, Tracer.” Jack took the pills and washed them down with the glass of water. “Do you think you can you speak quieter? The noise… Hurts.” 

Gabriel grumpily and unhelpfully added his own opinion: “Your voice is grating my ears like I’m a goddamn block of cheese.” 

“Ignore him,” Jack encouraged, massaging one of his temples. “Is Liao here yet?” 

“She’ll be here in a few hours, I think.” Tracer nodded. “Fareeha and I met up on the way here for the meetin’ an’ we got here at seven. Zarya an’ Mei were still nursing hangovers, but they told us you were here. I thought I’d pop in and bring you some water an’ aspirin-” 

“Thank you,” Jack said, with a pointed look in Gabriel’s direction. 

“Thanks,” Gabriel muttered. He picked up the water off the nightstand and Tracer handed him two tablets of aspirin. He tossed the pills down his gullet and chugged the glass, setting it down heavily.

“I’ll just go, then.” Tracer gave a short little nod. Gabriel kept his eyes shut when she opened the door, only reopening them after they were left in the relative darkness. 

“Gabriel, what the hell?” Jack asked. 

“What?” He swore there was a pain just behind his left eye, and had to resist the urge to start jabbing at his eye to try to soothe it. His mouth was dry despite the water, and his stomach begged for food whilst being fully aware that Gabriel could very possibly toss it back up again. 

“You didn’t need to shove me away like that,” Jack sounded hurt. God dammit. 

“Sorry.” He muttered. 

Jack sighed. “I know you are, but why did you even do that in the first place?” 

Like Gabriel was going to admit that he was  _ embarrassed.  _

“I dunno.” He mumbled unconvincingly. Being hungover made lying unnecessarily difficult. 

“ _ Gabriel.”  _

“There was a weird lady in our room. If we needed to fight I couldn’t have you restricting me.” 

Jack didn’t seem to believe him, but it was a good enough excuse in Gabriel’s opinion. 

“And if you had been where I was,” Jack asked flatly, “Would you have pushed me away?” 

Gabriel pursed his lips and didn’t reply.

“Thought so. Gabriel, she’s not going to think any less of you. She was probably more embarrassed on walking in on us than you are.” 

“God dammit, Jack, say what you mean.” Gabriel snapped. “My head hurts too much for any of this cagey bullshit.” 

“I’m  _ saying  _ you’ve got a problem. I don’t know how you grew up, and I’m not going to pretend I do, but this isn’t normal behavior.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Jack had touched a nerve. 

“Gabriel, please don’t yell.” Jack winced. “There is something wrong, but it’s not your fault.” 

Gabriel was trembling- fear, indignation, or the hangover, he had no idea which. 

“Gabriel, I’ve asked to meet your parents, and you always tell me no.  _ Why?”  _

Gabriel swallowed and didn’t reply.

Jack’s blue eyes seemed especially icy. 

“Jack,” Gabriel ventured slowly, “This is  _ not  _ the time.” 

“I think it  _ is  _ the time, Gabriel.” 

“My parents are bad people, Jack. You know that already.” 

“Gabriel, let me just tell you some things I’ve noticed. You  _ can’t  _ be weak. You’re  _ never  _ weak, not unless we’re alone, and sometimes not even then. It’s almost like you’re afraid someone is going to attack you if you let your guard down or stop acting  _ angry  _ all the time.” 

Jack looked as though he were expecting Gabriel to defend himself. He didn’t. 

“Do you know what I think?” Jack started.

“What  _ do  _ you think, Jack?” Gabriel replied, fighting to not bare his teeth. 

“I think I know what’s wrong, here. Did your father hurt you, Gabriel?” 

Gabriel gave him a guarded look. “All dads do it.” 

Jack let out a disbelieving noise. “No, they don’t!” 

“O-” Gabriel felt distinctly uncomfortable. “Of course they do. How else are children supposed to- You know… Toughen up?” 

“Oh my God, Gabriel…” Jack sat down on the bed, mattress dipping with his weight. “Your scars… Are any of those scars from your parents?” 

“Jack, this was a long time ago, and I don’t think this is important.” Gabriel’s unease was growing rapidly. Jack wasn’t angry- the expression on his face was  _ upset,  _ and his eyes shone with  _ pity.  _ Gabriel didn’t  _ want  _ to be pitied, not at all, especially not by Jack. “Look- This is bothering both of us, let’s just-” 

“ _ Are any of those scars from your parents?”  _ Jack repeated. 

Gabriel nodded wordlessly.

Jack exhaled shakily into his hands. “Guessing they weren’t exactly happy about you being…” 

Gabriel thought about quipping  _ “Alive?”,  _ but given how Jack was so upset, he gave a halfhearted shrug. 

“I didn’t like girls.” Gabriel said finally. “I didn’t get a good enough job. I spent too much time in school. That was what most of it was for.” 

“Did you ever…” Jack made a helpless gesture. “Fool around, with men?” 

“No.” 

“We’ve been sleeping together in the same bed for- For  _ months.  _ Is that why you never… Initiate anything?” 

Humiliation burned Gabriel, as hot and fierce as a brand. “Dammit, Jack-” 

“Did they ever-” 

“No, they didn’t!” Gabriel balled his fists. His voice, shouting in the small space and with his pulsing head, hurt. “It’s not like that. I was  _ never  _ like that. It was one of the other things they’d-” His throat suddenly choked, and he desperately wanted to swallow down the lump that’d just formed. “Jack. I was  _ always…”  _

Understanding dawned in Jack’s eyes, as if he’d just got an explanation for months of mystery. 

“You’re asexual.” 

“I’m not fucking  _ broken,  _ shut the f-” Gabriel started to yell, but Jack cut him off. 

“Gabriel, I didn’t say you were!” Jack spat, slashing a hand through the air. “All this time I’d been wondering  _ why,  _ wondering if someone  _ hurt  _ you or if you were  _ scared-”  _

“So you’re going to fucking  _ ditch  _ me now, right? I don’t want to fuck you or get fucked and then you just  _ run off,  _ after months of-” Gabriel’s words burned his mouth like acid, bitterness that’d been brewing from thirty odd years of emotional abuse from girlfriends he hated and parents he hated even more. 

“No! Where the in the hell would you even get that idea!? We don’t need to do anything you’re not comfortable with, I just wanted to know  _ why!”  _

Gabriel wanted to argue back, but he couldn’t find the words. His throat was choked, stuck and stubborn. A tidal wave of emotion crashed into him, made his knees weak. He sat down on the bed, next to Jack, and shivered.

The griffin tentatively wrapped an arm around Gabriel’s waist. Gabriel didn’t move to stop him. Jack shifted and Gabriel laid his head halfway on Jack’s shoulder, halfway on his chest. Jack laid his chin on top of Gabriel’s head, exhaling softly. 

“You can cry, if you want.” Jack whispered into his hair. 

Gabriel trembled fiercely. 

“What do I look like,” He said, shakily. Something that was halfway between a sob and a laugh tore itself out of his throat. They’d exchanged words like this a long time ago, when Gabriel had just become the Reaper. “A pussy?” 

“No.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	44. Imperial March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel attends the Overwatch meeting and meets another new face, as well as meets someone he hasn't seen for a long time.

In hindsight, it was amazing they had gone on this long without a major argument. 

All his other relationships had broken off in a month or a week over a disagreement of some kind. And while this wasn’t a disagreement, Gabriel had seen it coming the same way a doomed prisoner knows that hangman’s noose or the headsman’s axe is coming. Once tears had dried and throbbing heads subsided, Gabriel felt slightly sicker and somewhat better, and had the strong urge to apologize to Jack. When he tried, the griffin shushed Gabriel and told him it was unnecessary. 

After all this shit, Gabriel felt weaker than he had in a long, long time, and he hated it. 

“I’m going to go get breakfast,” His voice sounded distant and docile, even to his own ears.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you want to be left alone?” 

“No.” A shake of his head. 

Jack stood up, offered out his hand. Gabriel took it and got up, and the two of them shuffled out of the guest room. 

Tracer was sitting on the countertop. A couple seconds of listening told him enough: she’d helped an injured deer the morning before, that’d gotten its hoof stuck in a gopher hole, and was recounting the story to Zarya, Mei, and a fourth woman Gabriel had never seen.

He could only see half of her face, but she was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, midcalf boots with laces and heavy, tromping treads on the bottom that suggested a lot of hiking. Underneath her leather jacket was a white T-shirt stamped with grey lettering, that being  _ You’re Coming With Me / Dead Or Alive.  _ She was thin but not skinny, with the suggestion of muscle under her jacket. Nowhere near as much as Zarya, but nothing to sneeze at. Dark skin, moderately short black hair cut to the nape of her neck. Gold glittered on some braids in the front. A tattoo that reminded him of someone familiar. Soft lips and dark eyes. She seemed so familiar…

Ah.

That skin, that face, that tattoo… It was like a younger Ana had walked into the room. 

Only one person Gabriel knew of like that.

Fareeha. 

A strange swirl of emotion came over him as he uncomfortably realized something.

If Fareeha had been there at Ana’s house on the first day, ready to take him home, none of this ever would have happened to him. These past four months would’ve been spent at his job, with Liao, blissfully unaware and eternally a bachelor. 

He decided to not think about it. His emotional rollercoaster had gone far enough for one day. 

“ _ Priyvet,  _ Gabriel. Jack.” Zarya noticed them first, inclining her head politely. She was shirtless, wearing a grey sports bra and nylon shorts that barely contained her barrel-like thighs. You could grate cheese on her abs, holy fuck. It made Gabriel slightly self-conscious about his lack of clearly defined abdominal muscles.

“Good morning,” Jack replied brightly, as if the past thirty minutes hadn’t been spent yelling at one another and then consoling each other about it. 

“Are you two okay?” Mei asked anxiously. “We heard shouting.” 

Gabriel tried to muster up any emotional response. Mostly, he felt empty. “We’re fine.” Gabriel sounded like he was fucking dead inside. He tried again, louder and more emphatic: “We’re fine.” Passable. 

Zarya looked  _ very _ concerned, so maybe he wasn’t as good an actor as he thought. 

“Mei, do you have any bagels?” God, his voice was so…  _ Monotone.  _ Flat. 

“There are some in the freezer- we’ve got cream cheese and grape jelly in the fridge,” She provided, staring at him anxiously as he shuffled past her to get to the bagels. He fumbled with that weird little bread clip they put on all the bread items, then finally managed to get a frozen, hard-as-a-rock bagel from the bag. 

“Jack, you want one?” He tried to force his voice louder and clearer than a mumble. 

“Yeah.” Jack had apparently already memorized the layout of Mei’s kitchen, because he was taking out two cups from the cabinet. “You should probably drink more water. I’ll get you a glass.”

In his flat, spiteful little heart, Gabriel imagined it as mocking.  _ You cried like a pathetic pussy, and you’ve got to get all that water back somehow. _

Gabriel gave a jerky nod. “Thanks.”

It was then he was acutely aware of how the other four people in the house were dead silent. Mei was staring, a fearful expression on her face, but looked away when Gabriel glanced at her. Unlike Mei, Zarya held his gaze- It was a questioning and sympathetic  _ are you alright  _ and Gabriel really didn’t have an answer for it.

What a fine fucking morning to wake up to. 

He managed to force the frozen halves of the bagels apart, slotting them into the toaster. He leaned up against the counter, palms flat and head bowed.

The two newcomers, Fareeha and Tracer, were staring at him and Jack with unbridled curiosity. Gabriel read their open stares as not entirely interpreting the Jack/Gabriel dynamic yet, which was fair. Gabriel himself was uncertain about exactly how they stood now. He hadn’t completely given up the thought that Jack would abandon him for someone  _ normal-  _

“Gabriel,” Jack’s voice came gently from by the sink. “You’re smoking.”

He exhaled deeply. “Thanks, I think I look the best in the morning.” 

The joke was bad, but it diffused some of the tension. Mei and Zarya looked a little less worried, anyway. Jack stood next to him, setting the drink on the countertop and pushing it towards him. Jack’s body heat radiated inches away from his own, and a sudden, needy craving for Jack made his skin itch. 

_ Please,  _ a small voice in Gabriel’s head wept,  _ please touch me please please I need you right now I need to know you won’t leave me please.  _

Jack laid his palm on the back of Gabriel’s hand and he nearly started crying again. 

_ You have no idea what you mean to me.  _

He wanted to say it. To tell Jack and sweep him in a deep, flourishing kiss and forget the stupid case and the stupid Reaper and everything else in the whole world other than Jack. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead he did another stupid, impulsive thing he never would’ve done in presence of others- his lips met Jack’s cheekbone with a light butterfly’s kiss, a happy  _ “no hard feelings I love you”  _ and a “ _ thanks for the water, asshole”. _ Before Jack could say anything, Gabriel had turned his attention to the glass of water Jack had brought him and gulped it down. 

“ _ Woooot!”  _ Tracer’s voice warbled suddenly from the table, jarring Gabriel out of his somber trance. “Jack!”

“Yeah?” 

“Are you and him-” She pointed at Gabriel, then at Jack, clearly expecting Jack to make the leap. 

“Yeah.” Jack replied simply. “A few months.”

Tracer hopped off the countertop, hands clasped in front of her, standing on tip-toes in excitement. “Oooh, you should’a told me, I woulda brought something for the two of you! The last person I saw you get sweet on was, oof, a  _ long  _ time ago!” 

“He was married to his work. That’s what the stories say.” Fareeha folded her legs, head tipped curiously.

“Getting a little  _ personal _ .” Jack tugged at his collar. “How long until Liao gets here?” 

“An hour,” Tracer provided cheerily. She took a few paces back, hopping back onto the countertop.

“Zarya, Mei, you filled them in yet?” Jack asked. 

“Filled us in on what?” Fareeha asked. 

“That’s a no, then.” Gabriel intently studied the toaster, predicting in his head when the bagels would pop up. 

“Liao is a Reaper. The first Reaper.” Jack left Gabriel’s side to pace. “We can’t be completely sure, but Gabriel thinks she’s going to try to kill Mondatta at the meeting.”

“What?” Tracer echoed. “Why?”

“Are you up to date on your history?” Jack asked. 

“Suppose we’re not,” Fareeha said plainly. “What does it have to do with anything?”

“The Construct war,” Gabriel provided simply. “Her village was the first casualty.”

Tracer sucked in a sharp breath, looking down at her feet. “Okay, but what’s Mondatta got to do with any of it?”

“The djinni who lead the war was Mondatta.” Gabriel grunted. “He’s the Prophet. He was also one of the djinn involved in the murder of her family.” 

“These are rather extraordinary claims,” Fareeha pointed out, folding her arms. “Do you have any  _ proof?”  _

“No,” Gabriel admitted openly. “But I’m the only eyewitness I need. I was there- relieved a djinni’s past life.”

Fareeha, unsurprisingly, looked skeptical. 

Jack cleared his throat. “Mondatta wouldn’t tell us he was the Prophet unless he thought he was seriously at risk. He openly admitted to leading a war and attempting genocide on humanity- Either he’s insane or he’s trying to give himself some credibility.”

“He’s committed war crimes,” Fareeha barked. “Why _should_ Overwatch back him?” 

“Because,” Gabriel’s temper flared, “I  _ said  _ so. It’s not just Mondatta who’s at risk of dying- Liao’s grudge and the grudge of other people against constructions is getting the djinn killed, and I’m not letting anyone get wiped out on my fucking watch.” 

“This is a lot of conjecture with no facts,” Fareeha argued.

“Which is why I’m at this stupid meeting in the first place. I’d kill Liao and we’d be done with this entire mess if I didn’t want the facts.”

“Gabriel!” Jack’s voice was shocked, scandalized, and Gabriel realized perhaps he’d gone a little bit too far. 

“I’d hear her out first,” Gabriel muttered, throwing a glance in the direction opposite everyone else. “Like I said, I’m here to listen to her.” 

His bagels popped up out of the toaster. Jack brought him a plate ( upon watching Gabriel helplessly rifle through the closest cabinet and drawers ) and a butter knife. Gabriel fumbled through the fridge doors looking for cream cheese, but eventually found a packet under a bottle of mustard and a jar of questionably aged horseradish. 

Gabriel offered Jack the other half of his bagel. Jack took it. 

Gabriel felt a strange, tingly warmth when Jack accepted it, and looked down at his feet to hide his smile.

_ Could you cut that shit out?  _ He scolded himself mentally.  _ You’re not fucking five. _

“So.” Gabriel leaned heavily against the counter, rearranging his face into something more neutral. “Why didn’t you go with everyone else, Fareeha? Your mother and everybody else are with the Shambali.”

“Overwatch needed me.” She said simply. “My place was here.” 

“Not worried you’re going to be at odds with your mother?” Jack asked, sounding interested. 

“No.” Fareeha glanced away. Concern softened her face, though- Gabriel had a gut feeling she would honor duty before family, but he had a  _ very  _ hard time believing that even the hard-faced Fareeha could face down Ana without flinching. 

There was a knock at the door.

“Is that Liao?” Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “It’s too early, isn’t it?”

Mei got up and pattered over towards the front door- She was barefoot, wearing only white leggings and a low-cut blue T-shirt patterned with a snowflake. On her way, she fumbled for the purse that’d been set on a table near the front door.

“It is the pizza man,” Zarya told him. She got up, padding after Mei and comfortably rolling her shoulders as she went.

“Pizza man?” Gabriel echoed, looking at Tracer for an explanation.

“It’s a tradition! Whenever some big Overwatch guys get together, we order some kinda food, y’know?” Tracer chirped. 

“It’s my favorite part of meetings!” Mei squeaked. 

“Couldn’t beat the burgers at headquarters,” Jack replied fondly, taking a bite of his bagel.

Mei threw open the front door. Zarya stood beside her, arms folded- Gabriel admired her willingness to not wear a shirt when answering the door. He guessed if you had that many muscles nobody was really going to  _ make  _ you put on a shirt. 

“Four large pizzas,” the deliveryman listed off quietly. Mei tipped him a ten, and he went on his way Zarya took the pizzas and carried them into the kitchen, putting them down on the table. 

Tracer made a move to open the box, but Zarya gave her a light slap to the wrist. “We don’t eat until everyone is here,” She ordered.

“Aw, you’re right.” Tracer nodded ruefully. “I hope Liao gets here early… They smell so good!” 

“Now that I’ve got four Overwatch members in the same room,” Jack began, “Anyone want to tell me what Liao’s done with it?”

“The deaths kept happening,” Mei recalled with an unpleasant shiver. “First it was just Gerard- But then it was Argent and Em in the UK, Torres, Adams, Arrenheinus, Opara, MacCready in Antarctica… Diego and Ormina and Lee from Canada. It wasn’t a surprise so many people quit, too, it was like we were  _ cursed.”  _

Zarya laid a gentle hand on Mei’s shoulder, giving a slight shake of her head. 

“Liao couldn’t stop them. She figured out it was the Reaper doing it, but she couldn’t locate her. She poured so much  _ effort  _ into trying to find her-” Mei hesitated. “I don’t know… Three years ago, it stopped, all by itself.”

Gabriel nodded- that matched up with his timetable. “Amelie was weakening around then.” 

“Hey,  _ speaking  _ of Amelie-” Jack interrupted. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how did she survi-” 

Gabriel stomped on his foot, hard, giving him a death glare that cowed him into being quiet. “Three years ago, the Reaper chose me. Before Amelie died, she told me it’d been killing her ever since I’d been picked to be the Mantle. Probably didn’t have the strength to go murder more Overwatch members after that.”

Some of that was lies, or at the very least, not truths. 

Jack shot him a strange, confused glance.

Gabriel read it like a book: _ Why are you acting as if she’s dead?  _

Gabriel gave him a look and a tiny little head shake. 

All part of plan four. 

Jack raised his chin slightly, and Gabriel got the message-  _ This isn’t over.  _

“Those are hefty losses.” Jack sighed. “How many members do we have now?”

“Less than forty on active duty,” Fareeha said bluntly. 

“God, seriously?” Jack looked disheartened. “We’ve got less than…” 

“It’s okay, Jack.” Gabriel gave his shoulder a gentle touch. 

“How did this  _ happen?  _ We had  _ five hundred  _ when I was-” Jack was visibly upset. 

“A lot of people quit when you did, Jack.” Tracer shifted uncomfortably. “Winston and Athena, Reinhardt, Torbjorn, Angela-” 

“Wait a minute, Torbjorn was part of Overwatch?” Gabriel asked, startled. 

“Oh, yeah! He made all these cool inventions for us!” Tracer jiggled one of her legs, beaming broadly. 

He gave a short nod, hoping for an answer to a question he’d been too intimidated to ask Torbjorn. “Do he and Reinhardt have a- A history?”

“I dunno. I was only a few years in when they quit.” Tracer scratched the back of her head sheepishly. “I didn’t know ‘em enough.”

“I did,” Mei volunteered softly. “They dated for a while…” 

“They did  _ what?”  _ Gabriel nearly choked on his bagel. That explained the picture of Reinhardt in the forge… “But- but- Torbjorn’s  _ married.”  _

“They broke up when Reinhardt learned about it,” Mei said sheepishly. “That was a little before Jack quit.” 

Gabriel shot a look at Jack. “Did  _ you  _ know?”

“Uhh, no. I stayed mostly out of other people’s business- I was busy.” Jack scratched the side of his jaw, eyes wandering towards the floor. 

As if to save Jack from an awkward conversation, the doorbell rang again. 

“I’ll get it!” Jack volunteered immediately. He hurried towards the door and unlocked it, opening it. Jack was promptly tackled, and Gabriel bolted upright immediately, anticipating an attack. 

Ah. Not a tackle, but a tackle- _ hug.  _

“Ahh, Jack, it’s so good to see you!” Gabriel couldn’t see Liao from this angle, but it was definitely her. “God, it’s been  _ years!”  _

“Good to see you too, Liao.” Jack wrapped his arms around her. She straightened after a second, smoothing out her hair and straightening out her uniform. 

“Where’s…?” She glanced from the assembled faces in the kitchen and, upon sighting him, ran up to Gabriel. His muscles tensed, the Reaper shrieking alarm bells at him like a startled horse trying to rear. His brain yelled at him to run, but he forced the urge down with roughly the same effort it took to swallow glass. 

_ She is my friend. She’s been my friend. You’re not going to just murder her until she explains herself.  _

Liao stopped just short front of Gabriel, studying him closely.

“What?” He asked before he could stop himself. “I don’t get a hug?” 

“Gabriel, tell me- What’s five plus two?”

“Uh… Seven?”

“Can you tell me a childhood memory?”

“Went to my grandmother’s for Christmas once. She let me sleep in her bedroom that night because my parents were fighting, and it was the best sleep I’d ever had.” Gabriel eyed her warily. 

“Good, good… How do you take your coffee?”

“Black. What the hell is the point of this?” 

“How old are you?”

“Forty-three. Liao, what’s this abou-” 

“Who’s the president of the United States?”

Impatience bubbled in his chest. “Beyoncé. Could you just give me a fucking hug already?” 

“Sorry.” She rubbed her upper arm sheepishly. “But some Mantles- They get badly affected by the Reaper. Madness, irritability, confusion-” 

“I’m fine.” Gabriel’s brows crinkled. “Do I get a hug or not?”

Liao hugged him. 

Gabriel hugged back. 

“I understand you being here, Gabriel, and I understand Jack- But Zarya told me you arrived together.” Liao glanced between the two of them. “The last I heard, Jack’d been shot…” 

“I got over it.” Jack replied bluntly. 

“God, you went completely missing. I went to your parent’s house in January, and they mentioned you’d visited with Gabriel for Christmas, but after that it was like you’d dropped off the face of the planet,  _ both  _ of you.”

“We’ve been here and there.” Gabriel gave a slight shrug. “It’s nice to catch up, don’t get me wrong, but we’re here for a reason.” 

Liao exhaled slowly. “The case.” 

“Yeah. Let me put down what I know, then you’ll put down what you know. One, you’re the first Reaper.”

Her eyes widened. “How in the hell-” 

Jack shushed her. 

“Your village was massacred by the Prophet.” 

Something darker, something unpleasant burned in Liao’s eyes. 

“A djinni named Ojal ripped the Reaper out of you and it was stuffed into some old guy, the first Mantle.” Gabriel ticked it off on his fingers. “You’re immortal because of it.”

“That’s all true,” she said slowly.

“I know. I want to know what you’re going to do about it.” 

She raised her chin slightly. “Nothing.”

“That’s the problem,” Jack said softly, possibly to himself. 

“Well, unfortunately, you  _ can’t  _ do nothing. The djinn are dying and Overwatch-”

“Overwatch is mine,” Liao said, concise and clear. “And I can lead it how I want.”

“And as the Reaper, I’m telling you that it’s in your best interest to not let the djinn die.” 

“Why are you invested at all?” Liao asked, frustration creasing her brow. 

“You  _ know  _ me, Liao,” Gabriel replied simply. “I never liked to watch injustice.”

“You were also fond of police brutality, as I recall. Do you know how many records I cleaned up just to keep you out of  _ jail-”  _

“Probably a lot.” Gabriel gave a slight, inclining nod. “But I don’t  _ care  _ about that. What I  _ do  _ care about is the fact that you’re planning on killing Mondatta.”

“What would I do that for?” Liao asked, lifting her chin.

“Don’t play stupid. You know exactly what he is.” Gabriel shot back, tone flared with hostility. 

“Gabriel, he ordered the genocide of my family- of all of  _ humanity-  _ and the only reason he stopped was because  _ I  _ stood in his way.” The corner of Liao’s lip creased in a snarl.

Tracer quietly slipped a slice of pizza out of the topmost box, chewing thoughtfully. 

“They did it because they were  _ enslaved, _ Liao. You and me- of all the people, we should know exactly why they’d want to rebel. What the fuck do you think the Civil War was for?”

“This was  _ different!” _

“Was it?” Gabriel asked, fighting to not raise his voice. 

“They crossed a line that  _ no  _ one should cross!” 

“You became the literal,  _ physical  _ embodiment of  _ evil-”  _

“And so did  _ you!”  _ Liao shouted. “What the hell do you think you are right now, Gabriel!?”

“Both of you, calm down!” Jack barked.

“ _ Oh for fuck’s s- _ What authority do you have over us?” Liao spat back at him. 

“If  _ Gabriel  _ doesn’t want a cold bed tonight, he’s going to calm down. Aren’t you, Gabe?” Jack dug at Gabriel with a glare. 

“Who’s side are you  _ on?”  _ Gabriel barked. 

“I’m on the side that doesn’t get people hurt. You need to cool off-” Jack’s blue eyes darted to Liao. “And so do you. Civil discourse or no discourse at all.”

Silence, barring the sound of Tracer and Mei sheepishly chewing on slices of pizza. Jack went over to the sink and refilled a glass with water, passing it to Gabriel. He went to the cabinet, grabbed another glass, filled it with water, and gave it to Liao. 

“Jack,” Gabriel murmured, “Get me a slice of pepperoni.” 

Jack brought him a slice of pepperoni pizza. Gabriel ate it in silence, sending passive-aggressive glares to Liao that she had no qualms about returning. The tension was thick enough that not even a thousand degree knife could possibly slice through it. 

“So,” Jack prompted, “Are we ready to act like adults?”

“I’m literally  _ thousands  _ of years older than you,” Liao said, bitterly clutching her glass of water. 

“Then act your age.” 

“I never thought you had this kind of sass in you, Jack.” Gabriel replied, enjoying this maybe a little more than he should.

“Gabriel, I still have a free room in the mansion, and you’re  _ this  _ close to having to sleep alone tonight.”

Gabriel shut up. 

_ “Mansion?”  _ Liao asked innocently. Jack ignored her.

“This isn’t up for debate. Overwatch’s mission is to protect  _ all  _ magical creatures. Djinn count. It’s your  _ job  _ to protect them,” Jack said clearly. 

Liao didn’t look happy about it, certainly not. “I would suggest we save this for the meeting- You haven’t told us where it  _ is _ , by the way.” 

“Appalachian mountains.” Gabriel dug around in his pockets and read off the specific coordinates. Out of the corner, he spotted Fareeha writing this down on a small pad of paper. 

“A god’s domain.” Liao murmured. “Ah. Ashton, the deity of…” 

“Of?” Fareeha, who had been silent up until this point, prompted. 

“A minor intelligence god.” Liao provided begrudgingly. “Who is known for sticking his nose into mortal business. A faun.” 

“You agree to the meeting place?” Jack checked.

“Did Mondatta?” She looked wary.

Jack shook his head. “He hasn’t been told yet.”

“I agree,” Liao said simply. “Gabriel. Can we talk in private?” 

_ She might try to kill me.  _ Gabriel realized, with a small thrill through his spine.

_ Or you’re paranoid. _

“Let’s go outside. Jack, save me another slice.” Gabriel gave a tiny shrug, as if he weren’t bothered in the slightest. 

They went outside together, the door giving an almost mournful click as it shut. Not quite noon daylight, not yet- Nine or ten in the morning, maybe. A woman pushing a stroller and her companion, an older man, shuffled past on the sidewalk. The woman gave a quick greeting that Gabriel and Liao returned. They were quiet until they were safely out of sight.

“What is it?” Gabriel asked.

“We could work together.” Liao said quietly.

“Huh?”

“You don’t want the Reaper. I don’t want Mondatta. How about a deal?”

“A deal?” He echoed. 

“You let me have the Reaper back. I kill Mondatta. I leave the rest of the djinn alone.”

“How are you going to manage it without killing me?”

“The same way I got the Reaper taken out of me. Mondatta will rip the Reaper out of you- I’ll assume it again and kill him. We both go on our merry way. You and Jack can live together, no Reaper bothering you, no cases bothering you.” A short breath. “I promise not to touch the other djinn. And when I die, the Reaper goes with me. No more Mantles.” 

The offer was…

Tempting. Really tempting. Mondatta had already expressed his contentment with his own death. No humans would be killed, no djinn massacred. Gabriel would live, Jack would live. Together, without the Reaper. No need for plans or fallible magic. Nobody would ever have to take the Mantle up ever again. That little girl in the dining hall with the Reaper portrait- There would be no more of her. 

She could read the hesitation on his face.

“There’s no pressure. Not yet. We’ve got twelve days left to figure this out, and- I know I’ve done horrible things. I don’t know what you’ve seen, or what you’ve heard… But Gabriel, you’re my  _ friend.  _ I didn’t want the Reaper for you. I fought tooth and nail so you wouldn’t have to be like this…”

He was wavering. Goddammit, he was wavering. 

_ Would it really be that bad? _

Just him and Jack.

No more of those slight, scared looks he got from mythical creatures on the street. Living with Jack… Getting to some semblance of  _ normalcy.  _

“Consider it.” 

“I am.” Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, a shaky breath rattling in his chest. “God, I am.” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge thank you to ILoveTeamFortressToo for beta'ing for me! This is the one and only chapter that's ever been beta'd in this entire fic, so hoping it's of a top quality!
> 
> ( Brief plug- ILoveTeamFortressToo's got a good fic set in the TF2 universe called Foe Yay, go check it out if you haven't! )
> 
> we're getting CLOSE BOYS


	45. The Australian Omnium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie aggressively trains Jack and Gabriel, and they go visit Roadhog and Jamison.

When they got home, they were yelled at.

Amelie berated him for slacking in his training- She immediately marched Jack and Gabriel out into the yard, ignoring their protests. 

“You cannot run off without warning-”

“I’m an adult!” Gabriel insisted thinly. 

“An adult who has the lives of an entire race on his shoulders.” Amelie provided sharply. “Angela has told me of your plans. You will need to edge in any training you can. You cannot afford to  _ soften up,  _ because our enemies assuredly will not be using this time to weaken.” 

They stopped in front of the stretch of earth, the place Gabriel’s ass had met the dirt at least three hundred times in the past four months. Amelie’s little training ground. 

“Griffin, you’re first.” 

“I’m first for wh-”

Amelie struck Jack hard, making him stumble backwards. She didn’t give him a second before she swept out her leg, knocking his feet out from under him and sending him sprawling onto his back. Jack lay spread-eagle in the dirt, giving a dry cough and unsteadily pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Pathetic. Gabriel, your turn.” She ordered, crooking her finger in his direction. 

To Gabriel’s credit, he lasted longer than Jack. She attempted to strike for his throat, but he dodged. She had anticipated it, feinted, and brought her foot up to bear, slamming her toes into Gabriel’s ribs. He choked momentarily, trying to suck in air- Amelie’s heel rammed into his breastbone while he was stunned, and he stumbled back. She struck for him again, vicious but with precise control of every motion. Gabriel instinctively teleported, without thinking about it, and ended up behind her. He had a precious window of opportunity where he could’ve got Amelie down with a sharp kick to the inner knee and a hard push to the back, but surprise kept him from doing it. She whirled around in his split second of hesitation and, with her momentum ( and while bracing her arm ) slammed her elbow into his solar plexus hard enough to make him momentarily see nothing but black. Couldn’t  _ breathe _ , lots of pain- Gabriel dropped to a knee and she simply pushed him over, casually as you please. 

Jack helped him up. Gabriel attempted to soothe some of the injuries he’d received at her hands, wheezing to catch his breath.

“Have you learned  _ nothing?  _ I even gave you time to get on your guard!” She shook her head in disgust. “We have a long,  _ long  _ way to go…”

=

The twelve days involved slashing his schedule from learning, combat, and free time to mostly combat and next to nothing else. Gabriel was certain that if he actually dreamed he would probably be dreaming about fighting people. 

If it wasn’t drills, it was practicing. If it wasn’t practicing, it was learning. If it wasn’t learning, it was lifting. If it wasn’t lifting, he was probably either sleeping or eating, with the occasional shower thrown in for Jack’s sake more than anything else. 

Twelve days was not nearly enough time to learn how to properly defend yourself, so Amelie introduced nothing new. For the most part, it was just practice and reminders of old lessons. It took years to become absolutely masterful at combat, and since he’d had four months, he was a little tight for time. Especially since a lot of that was spent learning and studying with Angela instead of training with Amelie. Not to mention Amelie was trying to break down self-defense habits he’d learned in the force, because they didn’t apply to most supernatural creatures.

Currently the twenty-first of April- Four days remained until the big confrontation. Excitement charged the air, visibly. The golems were shifting anxiously, Angela was talking too fast and too much at dinner, and Torbjorn and Sombra both frequented meals, which they rarely did in the past four months. Torbjorn gave helpful tips, such as telling him the djinn deserved to die, which was always improved the morale and mood at mealtimes. Sombra’s purple eyes were cold and impassive during Torbjorn’s tirades, but with an observational gleam of interest that made Gabriel think she had more of a hand in this than he knew. She had always been an enigma… 

But he pushed her out of his mind. He was busy with training, after all. 

Amelie finished tossing Gabriel to the earth and wiped her hands off, once again unimpressed with his performance.  

“Drill with Jack.” 

“What?” Gabriel asked, rubbing his ( probably bruising ) tailbone. 

“Spar with the griffin, Gabriel. No Reaper powers.” She glanced at Jack, who looked at her as if to say  _ who, me?  _ “And you, no transformations.” 

“I don’t think I can-” Jack began uncomfortably.

Amelie, whose temper had been touched since they got home, snorted loudly. “Pull your balls out of Gabriel’s mouth. I’m not asking you to kill one another, just a friendly fight to see who’s slacking more.” 

Jack’s ears went slightly red. “Okay.” 

It went poorly, to say the least. Both of them were hesitant to actually hurt the other until Amelie encouraged them hard enough- Gabriel decked Jack in the face and Jack repaid him in kind, and the fighting began for real. 

Jack won the first time. Gabriel said he’d cheated. They fought again. Gabriel won.

“Tiebreaker,” Jack insisted. 

“I have seen enough.” Amelie waved off the sudden spurt of competitive spirit. “Gabriel. You need more work.” 

“We  _ have  _ been working. For  _ four  _ months.” Gabriel complained. 

“And you’re still barely passable.” Amelie said critically. 

“It’ll come in time,” Jack offered Gabriel a pat on the back. “Besides- You’re not the only one who’ll be there if it comes to a fight.” 

Something suddenly occurred to Gabriel. 

“Augh, shit, that reminds me! We forgot to tell the Shambali where the meeting is being held! God dammit, Roadhog and Jamison and Ana, too!” He instinctively clapped a hand over his mouth, then glanced at Amelie. He didn’t  _ need  _ her permission to leave, but he’d rather avoid a lecture-

She was unimpressed, once again. “You want to skip training to go run around in Nepal and Australia?”

“Uhm-” 

“Go.” She made a dismissive shoo-ing motion with her hand. “Maybe you’ll be better when you get back.” 

“Jack, you coming with?” 

“If you’re going to get Roadhog, you’re going to need me.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Because he’s at a mythical bar- Couldn’t take a pixie to a normal one.” 

“So what?”

“So, you’ve never been to one.” 

“And you have, Jack?” 

“Sometimes it’s necessary.” 

“I’ve been in plenty of bars.” Gabriel shook his head. “How different can they be?” 

“ _ Famous  _ last words.” Jack shook his head slightly. “Trust me, you’ll want me with you.” 

“Guess so. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna visit the Shambali first.” Gabriel held up a finger. “We’ll go to the bar together… You remember what he called it?” 

“ _ Australian Omnium.  _ In Melbourne. If I had to take a guess, it’s disguised.” 

“Disguised how?” 

“Enchantments that keep humans out.” 

“Wait, does that include me?” Gabriel asked. 

“Probably not… You have the Mantle.” A slight shrug.

“That’s good, I guess. I’ll be right back.”

Gabriel teleported to Nepal without a hitch- He ran into the monastery and almost immediately slammed into Zenyatta.

“It is good to see you, Reaper. Where are you going in such a hurry?” 

“Mondatta and Ana. Need to tell them where the meeting is.” 

“It seems as though you are eager to do this quickly. I will take a message for you.” 

“Thanks, Oj-” He caught himself, shaking his head. “Zenyatta. Got a piece of paper on you?” 

“Djinn have excellent memories. You have coordinates, do you not?” 

Gabriel read them off for Zenyatta.

“Ah, yes. I am familiar with the place. A faun lords over the region- Ashton.” Zenyatta gave a slight inclination of his head. “I will see that this gets safely to my brother and our guests. Although this is very short notice… Traditionally you receive a warning a week before the meeting is held.” 

“I forgot,” Gabriel admitted sheepishly.

“It is alright.” Zenyatta dipped his head. “No harm done. Now, you may go.” 

_ Aiqtiham misses you.  _

Gabriel shook the thought off- Ojal’s memories were still fresh in his mind from Torbjorn’s concoction, and although they were starting to dull, they were nonetheless chilling. 

Teleported back to Jack. 

“That was fast,” The griffin told him. 

“Zenyatta took the coordinates. Let’s get this done quickly so Amelie doesn’t yell at me for showing up late. Where’s Melbourne?” 

“Far south, slightly east.” Jack picked up a stick, etching a rough shape of Australia into the dirt and stabbing the spot where Melbourne lay.

“Alright, let’s give it a shot. This is gonna be an iffier transport, I think.” 

“Just don’t dump us into any harbors. Or get any buildings exploded.” 

“That wasn’t me,” Gabriel told him grumpily. “That was Jamison.” 

“That was years and years of history…” 

“Complain to another nerd, Jack. Let’s go.” 

Gabriel held out his hand, and Jack took it. 

They ended up in a narrow alley, sandwiched between two towering old buildings. There were skyscrapers off, far in the distance, glittering in the overpowering sunlight. The smell of  _ city  _ was present- Old piss, shit, gasoline and oil. Sure, it smelled  _ bad,  _ but it reminded him of home. The distant rush of cars and chatter of pedestrians almost punched him in the gut with familiarity, and he didn’t make the smart remark he was planning on making about the smell. 

“Does it feel cooler to you?” Gabriel asked instead. “I thought Australia was supposed to be really,  _ really  _ hot?” 

“Australian winter is in summer.” Jack told him. “It’s a different hemisphere. Did you ever learn  _ anything  _ in school, or-” 

“Not now.” Gabriel grunted. “How big is Melbourne?” 

“Three thousand square miles? Four thousand?” Jack wrinkled his nose.

“So we’re not gonna get anywhere searching for the bar on foot.” 

“We could ask around.” Jack suggested. “Use your Sight to find a vampire or a werewolf- there’s bound to be one around here somewhere. Melbourne’s one of the most populous cities in all of Australia-” 

“Got it.” Gabriel hesitated a second, then pulled open his Sight. It was roughly akin to sticking a fork in a power outlet- He was overloaded, although with  _ information  _ instead of electricity. It was a massive sum, every person in a five hundred foot radius- hundreds of complicated little lives waltzing around his He had to blink hard and force his knees to not shake, gripping onto Jack for support. After a few moments, all the raw information lessened to bite-sized chunks of manageable data, and he sorted through the grey sweetness of humanity until he came across something that wasn’t like the others. 

“Got a vampire.” Gabriel informed him roughly. “Follow me.” 

Tall, lanky, vest, boots, jeans. A stupid little hat, like a cowboy’s, and aviator sunglasses. Winding scar down the side of his face, from the brief glimpse he caught when the man glanced behind him, looking paranoid. 

Jack and Gabriel moved swiftly in his direction. When they were almost on top of him, he abruptly swerved into a small alcove between two decrepit stores, the narrow space decorated with broken bottles, piles of garbage, and the overwhelming scent of human urine. 

“I dunno what you blokes want, but whatever it is, you got more than you bargained for.” The vampire’s scar wrinkled as he spoke- it went all the way down to his lip, lifted up a corner of his mouth in a permanent sneer. The vampire parted his teeth to show off the glint of fangs. 

“Chill out.” Gabriel said bluntly. “We want to know how to get to the  _ Australian Omnium.”  _

The vampire relaxed, though just a hair. “S’all? But you’re…” 

“Not human.” Jack provided quickly. “We’re a little lost.” 

Some mumbling about Americans. “Go forward three blocks, turn left one block. There’s a shitty little laundromat, right? Or, uh, I guess mortals would see a laundromat. But should be a little place built into the ground, got a big  _ Australian Omnium  _ sign, can’t miss it.” 

“Thanks.” Gabriel and Jack turned to leave.

“Hold on a sec,” The vampire asked timidly. “You’re the Reaper?” 

“Yeah.” Gabriel replied without looking at him.

“Don’t trash the bar. Please.” 

“Do my best.” Gabriel replied dismissively. 

“Good. S’a nice place.” The vampire nervously rubbed his upper arm. 

Jack and Gabriel left him in the alley. 

“Think he’s telling the truth?” Gabriel asked.

“Why would he lie about something like this?” 

“Some people are compulsive liars.” Gabriel gave a short shrug. “Saw it a  _ lot  _ as an officer. Bunch of people lie just because they can.” 

“If he’s wrong, we’ll find someone else and ask them.” Jack tempered him carefully. “Your mercenary friend wouldn’t have told you to go here if you couldn’t get here, right?” 

“Guess so.” 

The vampire proved to not be lying. After about fifteen minutes of walking, they got there. On the way, they dodged pedestrians and got a heaping helping of amazed or terrified stares, depending on whether people recognized Jack or Gabriel first. A little girl ran up to Jack and showed him her fangs- Jack told her to not show strangers her fangs, but encouraged her to join Overwatch when she got older. Her frantic mother grabbed the little girl, and told Jack she was sorry for the bother. Jack told her it was no trouble at all.

Gabriel was spat on. A tall man with yellow eyes glared at him hatefully, nose wrinkled and sharp teeth bared. Gabriel had no idea what he was, but figured a street brawl would probably attract too much attention. Without halting his pace, Gabriel wiped the saliva off with the back of his hand. Wasn’t the first time he’d been spat at, but it was usually by teenagers or people getting arrested, not by random fuckers on the street. The man stomped off, muttering something in a deep accent. Probably mad he didn’t get a rise out of Gabriel. 

“Being the Reaper is a lot of fun,” He told Jack, trying to strangle any shred of anger that tried to appear in his voice. Keep calm. 

“I’m sorry.” Jack mumbled awkwardly. 

When they finally got there, Gabriel saw a filthy little laundromat, but when he concentrated hard, it was an old brick building, a neon sign blazing with  _ the Australian Omnium.  _

“Stop.” Jack instructed before Gabriel could reach for the door.

“Huh? Why?” 

“Let me handle all the talking.” 

“Jack, I’m not five-” 

“But you are the Reaper. And the Reaper is not exactly  _ liked.  _ Keep your head down.” 

Jack opened the door, and Gabriel got a few impressions immediately.

One, it was dark in there, which was typical, but there were pulsating red lights overhead instead of electricity-powered lights. Probably cut down on the power bill.

Two, there was a massive assortments of monsters down here. Like, fucking  _ everything.  _ There was a fucking big lizardly creature- a dragon?- smoking a cigarette and playing some card game with a four-foot furred creature, a little being that resembled an even smaller pixie, and a dwarf, all with appropriately sized tankards next to them. A bipedal wolf was slurping up beer out, accompanied by a scaled, fishlike monster with huge black eyes, and an actual, literal fucking horse. The horse was nibbling on a pile of sugar cubes. 

Three, it was bigger on the inside than on the outside. It had to be, in order to accommodate so many people and large creatures. 

A few people glanced up as he and Jack entered. None of the stares were friendly. None of them were particularly hostile, either, which was probably a good thing. 

The bartender was an octopus… Thing. He had eight tentacles coming out of his… Head? Where a mustache would be. He was busy cleaning several mugs of different sizes, though spared a glance in Jack and Gabriel’s direction when they approached him. Beside him, a creature with a hundred different arms. A six foot millipede or centipede or whatever the fuck they were called. It freaked Gabriel out to look at it too long, so he elected to not look at it unless absolutely necessary. Both of them wore dark aprons, flowy white shirts, and jeans. Bunch of spills.

“What’s your poison?” The octopus-man asked gruffly. 

“Any elvish wine?” Jack asked.

“Fucking ponce.” The octopus man murmured, turning towards the cabinet behind him. “Howsabout your mate?” 

“Designated driver.” Jack replied easily. “Nothing for him today.” 

The octopus-man poured him a glass, passing it over and not seeming to give a fuck when some of it sloshed on the countertop. “You got a hoard around here, feathers?” 

“In the States.” 

“Uh-huh. You gonna pay?” 

Jack reached into his jacket, scattering a few gold coins. 

“Oooh. Rich boy.” He picked up one of the coins. “This solid?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Sure your friend don’t want nothing? This’ll cover enough drinks to not remember how much you bought.” 

“That’ll be enough for everyone in the bar.” Jack tilted his head quizzically. 

“OI!” The octopus shouted. “You fuckin’ tossers, fuckin’ rich boy griffin just bought every one of your sorry hides a round!” 

There were sloppy cheers, mugs raised and alcohol sloshed and spilled. 

“Ar’ight. You clearly ain’t here for drinkin’, so whatcha want?” The octopus-man asked, lowering his voice. 

“Looking for two people. Roadhog, Jamison. You seen them?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. Can’t get rid of their sorry asses, but I ain’t gonna kick ‘em out… Big bastard scares me.” 

_ Beat a Chinese yeti, an immortal, and a vampire, at the same time. You’re right to be scared.  _ Gabriel held his tongue, but didn’t keep him from thinking it. 

Jack sipped his wine. “Where are they?” 

“Upstairs. The pixie keeps braggin’ about blowin’ up the Opera House. Prick. Some of us liked that place.” 

“We’re going to get rid of him.” Jack said with a shrug. 

“Woah, woah. No fightin’ in this bar, it’s too cluttered.” The octopus cautioned. “No murder, either, even if you keep it quiet. Bad for business.” 

“We have a contract with them.” Jack replied simply. “No fighting or killing involved.” 

The octopus relaxed a shade. “Oy, Millie, man the bar for me.” 

The huge centipede ( millipede? ) beside him gave a slight nod of its shiny head. Antennae twitched almost questioningly. 

“Feathers and his girlfriend want to see Hog and that winged junk rat- I’mma take ‘em to ‘em. Man the bar, don’t let anyone give you shit.” 

_ Girlfriend.  _ Gabriel had to tamp down the derisive snort he wanted to make. 

The octopus vaulted over the counter with surprising agility, padding through the cluttered barspace to a staircase to the far right. Jack and Gabriel went along with him. 

The room had much warmer, much brighter lighting. Everything was bathed in a golden glow, particularly the round, ten-person seater table. Hog sat at one end with Jamison, a cluster of interested patrons gathered around listening to Jamison’s dramatic reenactment of the opera house’s destruction. 

“Then the  _ cops  _ showed up an’ I was thinkin’, fuck, we’re gonna have to get through all these cops, right? So I’m tryin’ to get a plan together an’ Hog is panicking, ‘cos he’s good but the mortal police got numbers and tasers an’ how are we s’posed to deal with that, y’know? I told him to keep all calm. We rode off on his bike, an’ we were chased through the streets- Roadhog kept throwin’ his hook through their windshields, an’ he threw with bloody PINPOINT accuracy. He didn’t even look behind, but he kept smashin’ the windshields. He hooked a police officer an’ bloody dragged him to death! Just a big ugly smear on the asphalt!” Jamison laughed, the sound entirely unpleasant. 

Jack cleared his throat while Jamison was taking a breath, and the pixie paused, brightening up upon sighting the two of them.

“Ooh! Now  _ these  _ guys, they were there, weren’t they! You saw all that shit!” Jamison said brightly.

“Yep.” Jack wrinkled his nose. “Nothing like swimming through splinters of wood and charred corpses.” 

Roadhog, who had been stationary and silent, swung his head around to glance at the admirers gathered around the table. They cringed visibly when his gaze passed over them.

“Clear out.” He commanded. They scattered like leaves in the wind, scampering in every which direction.

“Aww, I wasn’t done with my story!” Jamison whined. 

“You’ve told it fifteen times. Shut up already.” Roadhog snorted. He looked directly at Gabriel and asked: “What?” 

“Got the location.” Gabriel rattled off the coordinates- practically had ‘em memorized now. 

Roadhog slumped in his chair. “That’s in America. Hnnh.” 

“That a problem?” Gabriel asked uncertainly. 

“No.” Roadhog pushed back his chair, then stood up. “Jamison. We’re leaving.” 

“But I wanna-” 

“We’re going.” 

“Actually.” Gabriel held up a finger. “Just a second. Roadhog, can we-” 

“Jamison. Go with the griffin.” Roadhog ordered gruffly. 

“Gabriel?” Jack cocked his head, questioning. 

“I have to talk to him. Angela told me to.” Gabriel gave a slight nod. “Nothing you need to worry about. Keep an eye on Jamison, please. God knows what kind of trouble he could get to by himself. Wait for me in the bar.” 

Jack gave him a wary, uncertain glance, but lead the pixie out of the room. 

“Need you for something.” Gabriel breathed in and out deeply. “If everything goes the way I think it will… Do you think you can keep a griffin at bay? Without hurting it?” 

Roadhog’s mask made him as impassive as ever. “Why?” 

“Because I’m going to get killed, and we need to keep Jack from stopping it.” Gabriel said in a whisper. 

A grunt. 

“If he’s not there, stall him. Keep him from finding me.”

“Doesn’t seem hard.” 

“I know. But it’s important, nonetheless. Jack  _ can’t  _ stop me from being killed. He  _ can’t,  _ or everything’ll fall apart. Actually, keep  _ everyone  _ from stopping me from being killed. If Liao’s angling to kill me, I  _ have  _ to die. Fight dirty, break bones- I don’t care what you have to do.” 

“Got a plan?” 

“Yeah.” 

A short nod. “That all?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll be there by morning.” Roadhog grunted. “The twenty-fifth?” 

Gabriel nodded slightly, and the two of them went downstairs together. Jack was by himself, looking very awkward standing next to the row of barstools and drinking his wine. Jamison laid on the countertop, lounging in a semi-French girl pose. 

“Gabriel, good.” Jack looked slightly relieved upon sighting him. “That’s everyone we needed to tell, right?”

“Think so.” Gabriel wrinkled his nose, trying to think of someone else. “Yeah, we’re good. Got Liao, got the Shambali, got Ana, got Roadhog… Don’t think we’re missing anyone.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” Jack turned for the door.

Gabriel caught him by the wrist, linking a thin tendril of smoke around the two of them. If they were leaving, might as well make it a dramatic exit.

He gave the octopus bartender a tiny wave.

He had juuust enough time to catch the surprised look on the cephalopod's face before they teleported away.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> even closer!!
> 
> fun fact: rn chapter 46 is complete. oh boy do things get fun in ch 47
> 
> happy 12,000 hits and ~175,000 words!! :D


	46. The Dawn of a New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and co prep for the long-awaited meeting.

The three allotted days went by so quickly. 

The four  _ months  _ he’d been given went by quickly, like his entire life was a massive book and some idiot was reading it too fast.

“You scared?” Jack whispered into Gabriel’s ear.

“Yeah.” He replied muzzily. 

Moonlight shimmered through the windows. The curtains had been drawn open wide to allow swaths of milky white-blue light to slant in. 

In the morning, they would go to the Appalachian mountains.

In the morning, Gabriel was going to die. 

If everything went to plan, so would Liao. 

But if he took Liao up on her offer… It would just be Mondatta. 

“You know, it’s getting late…” Jack started slowly, voice dripping sleepy syrup. He shifted slightly in the sheets.

“I know.” Gabriel told him. 

“We could go get sleeping pills from Angela…” Jack let the suggestion hang, giving a soft yawn. 

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Jack assured him, affectionately laying his forehead against the back of Gabriel’s neck.

“I love you.” Gabriel sighed. 

“I love you too, Gabe. Try to get some sleep.” A soft, warm kiss to the side of Gabriel’s throat. 

Jack’s breathing steadied into something light and frequent, warmth and moisture blooming against Gabriel’s neck. The purr of Jack’s sleep. Gabriel was glad one of them was able to sleep tonight. He’d need Jack’s help for this to go off without a hitch, even if he also needed to keep the poor griffin in the dark.

_ You should take Liao’s suggestion. Lose the Reaper. Let her kill Mondatta. You can claim he’s commanding the Russian forces and get all of this over with. No more responsibility, nothing but you and Jack…  _ It was the simplest way, the easiest way, the least dangerous way. No one died, except Mondatta, and Mondatta had already expressed the desire to attone. Maybe the way for him to be forgiven of his sins was to let Liao kill him. It seemed fitting… 

Then why did something feel wrong? He felt as though there were something niggling in the back of his mind. Paranoia or distrust or something similar…

Talking her out of it wasn’t going to work. It was take her side or plan four- imprisoning her wasn’t going to work, and would probably just make her mad when she  _ did  _ manage to escape. It was a temporary fix for a non-temporary situation. Mondatta’s plan wasn’t right, either… 

It was either work with her or kill her. 

And he wasn’t sure which one he should do. 

Wouldn’t it just be easier to stay with Jack? 

But then why did it feel  _ wrong?  _

Gabriel leaned into the warmth of Jack’s body wrapped around his own, letting the man comfort him into a light, uneasy sleep. 

When he woke up, it was to knocking on his door and Angela yelling.

“Gabriel! Jack! Breakfast is ready, get up!” 

Jack was already awake- shifting slightly away from Gabriel. Gabriel resisted the impulse to flip on his side and pull Jack back flush against him. Jack’s warmth and the solid wall of his body had been… Nice. 

Jack lightly shook Gabriel’s shoulder, trying to jostle out the sleepiness. “Big day today, Gabe. C’mon, get up.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled- he threw the blanket off himself, begrudgingly climbing out of bed to join Jack. Worn pajama bottoms wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you wore to a shindig that decided whether or not an entire race of people deserved to be genocided… Needed to get dressed first. 

_ Knock knock knock knock….  _

“Gabriel! Jack!” Angela called.

“We’re up!” Gabriel yelled back. Jack ambled over to the closet where he’d hung his Strike-Commander armor, coat, pants and boots, starting to put them on.

“You really gonna wear that?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” Jack asked, slightly offended. 

“Nothing, nothing…” Gabriel really had no room to judge, considering all his clothes were hand-me-downs. He’d never really gotten around to that whole shopping thing, and one of the ‘80’s Reapers had a good taste in clothes as well as a lot of them. No point in getting a new wardrobe. “Christ, what am I gonna wear?” 

“Your coat.” Jack suggested.

“What else, though?” 

“Black goes good with everything,” Jack advised, tugging on his cufflinks. “Plain white. If you had any, I’d suggest you take armor, too.” 

“Fresh outta that, Jack.” 

“We should’ve asked Torbjorn.” Jack shook his head. “Ugh. We were so…  _ Ill  _ prepared for this.” 

“You’d think that after four months we would’ve readied up for this shit.” Gabriel shook his head. “Too late now. Let’s go get breakfast.” 

“Put on a shirt first.” 

Gabriel selected a Pink Floyd shirt from the pile he’d haphazardly thrown in a chest of drawers, briefly wondering if any of the old Reaper clothes were worth any kind of money. Maybe to a collector of really old shit.

He and Jack left the room to find Angela, who looked relieved when they pushed open the door. She was in a clingy red dress and matching lipstick. No shoes, as usual- Her scaly legs and talons had been shined, her blond hair brushed and curled. Her feathers were glossy, shiny and smooth, not a single follicle out of place. Her nails were painted the same red as her dress and her lipstick. 

“So, we’ve got a big day today!” She clasped her hands together, offering up a smile. “Gabriel, Amelie and I had a thought a few days ago and we’ve got something for you to wear that won’t be- Well.” She made an apologetic gesture to his pajama bottoms and Pink Floyd shirt. “After you eat, of course. Wouldn’t want you accidentally mussing it-” 

“It’s a suit, isn’t it.” Gabriel let out a small, miserable sigh. 

“Formality is important.” Angela folded her arms. 

“Not gonna make Jack wear one?” Gabriel glanced at the white-haired man beside him. 

“If he wants to.”

“No,” Jack replied simply. “I’ll keep my uniform, thanks.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Gabriel mumbled in complaint, but didn’t raise any more objection.

Angela lead them down the stairs. 

Torbjorn was present, wearing a tiny little tuxedo that  _ had  _ to have been custom-tailored for his little frame and mechanical arm. It was one of those tweed suits that an old professor would wear to a lecture instead of something a Hollywood celebrity would sport on the red carpet. He was scarfing down some kind of porridge chock full of fruit, a cup of steaming coffee beside him. He wore a pair of small, gold-rimmed glasses, which was weird, because Gabriel didn’t remember him having any eye problems.

Amelie sat a few seats down from Torbjorn. She wore a suit, her hair allowed to hang free and cascade down her shoulders. She hadn’t put on any makeup, but she was, irregardless, stunning in the suit. She had a yellow flower in the lapel that made her citrine eyes even more striking. She still looked too sharp, too slender, too  _ severe  _ for Gabriel to be attracted to her, but that didn’t detract from the fact that Amelie looked good in a suit. She was currently staring down into a cup of coffee, contemplative. 

Sombra was conspicuously absent. 

There was an unspoken request from everyone in the room- their eyes drifted from Gabriel to it, and back again, expectant.

The Reaper’s throne- or its seat- lay at the head of the table. Gabriel had never sat there.

Not until today. 

He padded up to it, nervous energy making his stomach jitter. 

Angela slid into a seat next to Amelie. Jack was on Gabriel’s left, and his belly did a sickening flip of fear when he remembered the beaten, broken Jack on the future Gabriel’s lap. That was part of why he’d been avoiding this so long- the other part was the acknowledgement of himself as the Reaper. It’d been four months of prep, four months of planning, but he wasn’t entirely certain he was ready to fully take on the Mantle. 

He sat down in the Reaper’s throne. The bird-faced mask carved into the stone seemed to hum with approval, although the sound had gone as quickly as it’d come. 

The kitchen staff of golems silently filed into the room, unbidden. They knelt, heads bowed in submission. 

He swore the portraits were smiling at him from their places on the walls. The chandelier burned a bright, approving yellow-orange. 

Gabriel cleared his throat.

“I guess you guys probably want a speech.”

A slight nod from Amelie. Gabriel inhaled slightly, uncertain how exactly to say this. 

“I know that a lot of you are confused. I’m confused, too. But fucking Christ, we’re gonna do this shit. Liao was my friend- Was Jack’s friend- and I hope we can talk her down.”  _ Not anymore. If I ever had a chance, I blew it when I met her last.  _ “No matter what happens, or what it comes to, all of you have been my friends-” A glance at Jack. “- Or more. You’ve taught me, fought me, tested me, tried to mold me into a good Reaper. Thank you, for all the time you’ve sacrificed-” A glance at Torbjorn. “For the freedom you’ve given up-” A glance at Jack. “For the power you’ve handed down-” To Amelie. “For the patience you’ve displayed.” To Angela. 

“I’m not… Really good at speeches.” Gabriel scratched the nape of his neck. “Jack could probably do a fuckton better. But, no matter what happens at the conference, I’m glad I have you all.”

_ Except you, Torbjorn. Fuck you. _

Gabriel inclined his head, indicating the speech was over. The golems straightened, bustling back to the kitchen or back to clearing and serving plates. 

“Well said,” Torbjorn said begrudgingly. 

“Thanks.” Gabriel gave Torbjorn a slight nod, then addressed the whole table: “So, how are we getting there? I can only teleport one at a time.”

“We’ll just have to go one at a time.” Amelie shook her head. “I expect you’ll want to take Jack first?” 

“You, actually.”

Plan four. 

“There is no point in delaying this.” Amelie gave a slight shake of her head. “I’ll be waiting in the yard.” 

She pushed away her coffee and stalked out of the dining room. One of the golems quickly cleared it away, while another approached Gabriel, cup in hand. The serving staff had long since learned how he liked his coffee, and just breathing in the vapors of the steaming mug made him feel more invigorated. 

“Thank you.” 

The golem twittered happily. Gabriel got the general understanding:  _ You’re welcome, would you like anything else?  _

Last meal, huh? 

“I dunno. Sausages and eggs?” 

It whistled confirmationally and asked Jack the same thing. Jack asked for oatmeal with blueberries. The golem stomped off in the direction of the kitchen. 

Gabriel took a sip of his coffee. Ahhhhh… 

Breakfast went by slowly. Honestly, things in general went by slow when you were thinking about how you were gonna die. Funny how the world worked like that. 

All part of the plan. Aaaall part of the plan. 

Gabriel swallowed down the last of his food and rose. Angela, who had been politely waiting for him to finish, perked up.

“Into my room, Gabriel! We have to get you dressed.”

A golem swept up his dirty dishes and took them back to the kitchen- Gabriel got up out of the throne, kind of glad ( it wasn’t exactly all that comfortable, though it was roomy ) to be away from it. He followed Angela, leaving Jack and Torbjorn to their breakfast. 

“You know exactly how it has to be done.” Angela told him quietly.

“Yup. Self-inflicted or done by you.” 

“Can you do it?” She whispered. 

“A million people do it every year.” Gabriel shook his head derisively. “I’m not going to flake out on something like this.”

“I… I don’t know what to say. Just- I’m thankful you have this kind of trust in me.” She confided softly. “I- I know you didn’t want to be here, doing this. I know you wanted no part in this, and if you from four months ago had the powers you did now, Amelie and I would be dead. But- I just-” She seemed to be having trouble articulating things properly. She stopped, at the door to her room, and turned to Gabriel.

She kissed him. A light, fluttering thing to the side of the face, that required her to stand on the tips of her talons. It wasn’t a romantic gesture- it was a friendly expression, a  _ thank you for trusting me.  _ Platonic. Gabriel hesitated a second before returning it with a swift kiss to the forehead. 

Angela pushed open the door to her room, then lead him to a closet. 

“I took your measurements way back in December- uh, when you were unconscious after the Reaper took hold of you.” 

“That’s creepy, Angela.” Gabriel gave her a slightly concerned look.

“I didn’t think you’d fit into the other Reaper’s clothes so well, so I was going to get some for you, but you fit just fine into them.” She was slightly pink in the face, but tried to cover it up by opening up the closet door. 

Black suit. White dress shirt. A vivid red tie- if he had to guess, picked to match his new Reaper-born eye color. Black dress pants, a black leather belt, a pair of boxers, silken socks, immaculately shined dress shoes… They’d probably pinch his feet until they bled. Great. 

“Mind turning your back?”

“You’re shy?” Angela asked. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really a fan of anybody getting an eyeful of my dick or ass. Not even Jack.” 

She made a small noise of assent and turned her back.

Stripped off his shirt first, then pajama pants.

“ _ Chica,  _ you better not be looking,” Gabriel growled.

“Why are you so self-conscious?” Angela asked. She had an edge to her voice that made Gabriel think that she was asking in a ‘I’m going to use this to build a psychological profile of you’ rather than as genuine curiosity.

“Told you. Don’t like people staring.” 

Boxers: on. Pants: on. Belt: belted. 

“Can look now.” He fumbled with buttoning the dress shirt- damn buttons wouldn’t get to their moorings!- but managed it. Angela smoothed out his collar, assessing him closely. 

“Do you know how to tie a tie?” She asked. He gestured for her to hand it to him, and with a couple deft motions, he had a simple knot.

“LA policemen- or at least most- wear ties. I learned how to tie one early on.” Gabriel explained. 

“Can you do a bowtie?” She asked, straightening it ever so slightly.

“Hah, no.” 

Jacket was up next. Went on easy. Fit… Well. Fit  _ really  _ good. Guess that happened when you had hand-tailored suits, and not hand-me-downs from when your dad was a kid your age. 

Was why Gabriel always hated church. Scratchy suits, wizened pastor. 

“Hold on,” Angela held up a finger, and he didn’t move. She went over to the nightstand by her and Amelie’s bed, picking up a slender red flower from a vase of yellow and red roses. She took a pair of stainless steel scissors from the drawer and cut the rose so it had an inch or two of stem left. She arranged the bloom neatly in his lapel, stepping back to admire for a moment.

“You need to brush your hair,” She told him. “Maybe trim your goatee…” 

“Maybe and no.” Gabriel stroked the wiry hairs almost self-consciously. 

“I’ll go get a brush. See about putting your shoes on.” 

Gabriel sat down on the edge of Angela’s bed, gingerly putting his socks on. Shoes were pleasantly non-pinchy and went on easy, which was a nice change from his Sunday best dress shoes when he was a kid. He distinctly recalled blisters and bleeding from those goddamn things. 

Angela returned two minutes later with both a hairbrush and his Glock- he must’ve left the door to his room open. 

“I don’t have a holster-” Gabriel began.

“There’s a pocket sewn on the inside of the jacket.” 

Gabrel’s fingers brushed the extra square of fabric, and he made a slight, surprised noise. “You thought of everything.” 

“I had to, because I knew you wouldn’t.” Angela replied, with a glance of humor to her tone. She handed him the Glock. Safety on, just as beat up as he’d left it. He put it in his jacket pocket and smoothed out his clothes.

She wordlessly handed him the hairbrush. “It would be best to be presentable…” 

He grunted and attempted to comb out his hair. He’d gotten it cut a week or two before ( Amelie was handy with scissors, as it turned out ) so it didn’t have as much mass or as much tangle potential as it could’ve.

“That better?” He asked, setting the brush aside.

“Are you sure you won’t trim your bea-” 

“Yeah.” His voice would hopefully make it clear there was no room for argument in the matter. “Come on. Amelie’s waiting.” 

They filed out of Angela’s room together- Jack was waiting for him at the front door.

“You look good,” Jack said appreciatively. There may have been a slight flush to the griffin’s face. “You should wear a suit more often.” 

Gabriel shrugged ever so slightly. “Am I ever gonna see you in one?” 

_ No. The answer is no, because you’re going to die.  _ The Glock felt heavy in his pocket. 

“Maybe,” Jack said, his blue eyes sparkling warmly. 

“Uh-huh.” Gabriel snorted, pushing the front door open. He addressed Torbjorn and Amelie, who were waiting in the yard, as well as Angela and Jack. “Anybody know where Sombra is?” 

“Someone had to stay here.” Torbjorn grunted. “I don’t trust those golems by themselves.” 

Gabriel turned to Amelie, extending his hand to her. She accepted it, graciously. 

There was a knowing look exchanged.

_ You know what I’m going to do?  _

_ Yeah. _

_ You know your part? _

_ Yeah.  _

_ Let’s go, then.  _

It wasn’t the first time Gabriel had been here.

He and Amelie had done test runs, practicing teleporting here and back on downtime during the past week. Amelie knew where she had to be. Gabriel knew where she had to be. It had been part of the setup to find where she had to be- all integral to plan four. 

The god’s home was not a humble little place.

It was built into a massive canyon, a hundred feet deep, a hundred feet wide, and thousands of feet long. Built into the side of the canyon was a huge stone doorway- Gabriel had never dared to venture within. It hadn’t been necessary, not for him, not for Amelie. Massive stone columns- most of them unnecessary- rowed the stone around the titanic door in a pseudo-Grecian style. Overhead, pine trees loomed, casting choppy shadows onto the earthy floor of the canyon. Pine needles and bark made a soft bed on the floor of the canyon, and probably ruined Gabriel’s wonderful new shoes. The sky was grey, sunlight filtering through a layer of clouds and the shadow-casting trees overhead. A quick check with the Sight proved that the only thing nearby were twittering birds, lizards, and rats.

Gabriel shaded his eyes as he looked up at the canyon lip above, then turned to Amelie. 

“You have it?” Gabriel asked. 

Amelie loosened her belt, then retrieved the slim sniper rifle from where it’d been snug against her left leg, tucked under her suit pants.

“ _ Oui.”  _ She hastily stripped off her suit jacket, rolling up her undershirt’s sleeves to the shoulder. Glossy black corvid feathers glistened in the cold sunlight. “Are you prepared? I had absolute trust in Angela, but you…” 

“It’s now or never.” Gabriel responded as warmly as he could. “I’m fuckin’ ready.” 

She gave him a nod- there was a  _ godspeed  _ exchanged in their glance, and she beat her wings and flew up to the rim of the canyon, perching there like the half-bird she was.

A sniper’s nest. They’d left spare ammunition and a spare rifle up there, just in case. Medical supplies, should the worst happen. A coil of rope. 

He may not have prepared with armor, but he’d been prepared in other ways. 

He teleported back to the mansion, leaving Amelie behind.

“Angela, you’re up next.” Gabriel told her. He coiled a tendril of shadow around her hand, and the two of them reappeared back in the depths of the canyon. 

“Where is she?” Angela asked, glancing up.

“Probably best if you don’t know.” Gabriel told her. “You’re ready? You’re the most important part about this whole thing.”

“Gabriel- I-” There might’ve been wetness in her eyes. 

“It’s okay.” He was always really shitty at comforting people- he laid a hand on her shoulder. “Even if it doesn’t turn out right, you’ll be invaluable as a healer. If she’s going to kill me, she’s going to kill others.” 

“I know.” She choked softly. 

Gabriel removed his hand. “I’m gonna go get Jack. Try to…”

Angela wiped an unshed tear with her knuckle. “Go.” 

Back to the mansion.

Gabriel paced to stand in front of Jack, holding out his hand. 

Jack took it- And a tiny, impulsive little surge of emotion made Gabriel lean forward and kiss him. 

They reappeared in the canyon with Gabriel’s arms flung around Jack’s neck. Jack hastily threw his arms around Gabriel’s middle, deepening the kiss.

_ Good God I love you.  _

All good things have to come to an end. Gabriel pulled away, shaking his head. Jack looked a little dizzy.

“What was that for?” 

“Luck,” Gabriel replied cheesily, not able to resist the cliche. 

“Hmm,” Was all Jack said. He glanced around at the canyon- It took Jack fifteen seconds to catch on, but he glanced at Angela and Gabriel and asked, “Where’s Amelie?” 

“She’s around.” Gabriel said vaguely. “Must’ve gone somewhere when I teleported. She’s got wings, maybe she went to get some sunshine.” 

“You’re not worried about her?” Jack asked.

“No one was around. She’s fine.” Gabriel assured. “I checked. With the Sight.” 

Jack made a slight sound that might’ve been dissent, but he didn’t argue. “No one else has arrived yet?” 

“We didn’t set a time.” Angela appeared a lot more composed than before. “Typically it takes place before noon, and we’ve got… Two hours until then.” 

“I’ll be right back, then. Gotta go get Torbjorn.” 

He returned to the dwarf. Didn’t bother to touch him- coiled a tendril around his ankle and the two of them were off. 

The merry band of four- Gabriel, Jack, Torbjorn, and Angela- turned together to face the huge door built into the canyonside. Gabriel hoped his heart wasn’t the only one pulsing with anxiety. 

“Let’s go.” Gabriel said, sounding braver than he felt. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter goes up wednesday morning!
> 
> fun fact: the beta title for this chapter was HERE WE GO BOYS


	47. Take a Swing / Bet You'll Whiff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting proceeds as intended- However, Liao pulls Gabriel out for a little one-on-one conversation...

A faun met them at the door.

He wasn’t particularly impressive looking. Five and a half feet tall, maybe? He looked more or less like a normal human for the upper half of his body, barring the long white deer ears that sprouted up from the top of his head. His entire lower half was that of a deer, hooves and weirdly jointed legs and all. The faun had pure white fur on his haunches, white hair on his head, and pale white skin that looked as though it could blind somebody if they stared too long in bright sunlight. He had red eyes, rosy red, and was slender, although his deer legs made him have pretty huge hips. 

He wore a white tuxedo, a pale blue undershirt beneath. He had a bow tie and sash ( cummerbund? ) that were the same pale, washed-out red as his eyes. Gabriel could respect that- his tie matched his eye color, after all. The faun wasn’t wearing pants, but he didn’t appear to have any visible junk, which Gabriel appreciated briefly before wondering how the hell he peed. 

Angela, Jack, and Torbjorn knelt. Gabriel moved to do so, but the faun waved him off. 

“Today you are my equal, Reaper.” He had a soft, musical voice. “There’s no need for submission. The same goes for your entourage.” 

“You’re…?” 

“Ashton. Lord of this region. Minor god of intelligence- The title is too vague for me, so my preference is  _ god of mathematics,  _ but that tends to bore visitors.” 

A math god. They were in the domain of a fucking  _ math god.  _ Gabriel had to resist the urge to go back home. “Do I need to do introductions-” 

“No. You’re the Reaper. He’s the former head of Overwatch, and the lovely lady and delightful gentleman behind you can only be members of Talon. I was glad to volunteer my home for your purpose… It’s in my interests to preserve intelligence, so you’ll imagine I’m inclined to keep the djinn alive. But there’s a nasty situation in Russia, and I would rather have humanity’s progress than the djinns’ if it comes down to picking between different genocides.” 

He pushed open the doors lightly, which seemed as though it should’ve been impossible due to the fact they were probably several hundred tons of stone, but they moved, nonetheless.

The foyer ( and space afterward ) was splendid. Marble floor, towering stone pillars, sweeping architecture that made it seem like a temple or some shit. There was a gilded, ornate staircase that lead off to different parts of the place. Servants milled about, talking to one another or tidying up the sparse amount of furniture. They were all in immaculate suits and white gloves, regardless of gender, and stood at attention as the faun, Gabriel, and Gabriel’s plus three passed. The faun waved them off and they returned to their duties. 

There was a slight depression in the floor to their immediate left- in it, a small bar, stocked with brands Gabriel recognized and some he didn’t. To their right, a wall with a twenty foot chalkboard, scribbled with equations and lines and shapes and enough numerals and letters to make Gabriel’s head spin. He was not a math man, and he pitied the handful of fauns who were gliding around on ladders, scribbling out equations.

At the foot of the staircase were two groups of people Gabriel had hoped he wouldn’t have to meet just yet.

Ana and Liao were arguing. He couldn’t hear them from this distance, but it was obvious from their body language that there was some kind of disagreement. Pharah, Tracer, Mei, and Zarya flanked Liao, and while they looked like they would rather be anywhere else, they were still backing the head of Overwatch in the argument. Ana had Hanzo, McCree, and Reinhardt standing behind her. Roadhog, Jamison, Genji, Mondatta, and Zenyatta were nowhere to be seen. 

“Oh, not again.” The faun sighed. “I take my eyes off of them for a moment and they’re fighting yet again…” 

“- Have  _ no  _ right to be here!” 

“We were invited!” Ana shot back fiercely. 

“The Reaper’s invitation means nothing! Unless all parties agree, you  _ can’t  _ be here!” Liao barked. “And I do _ not  _ agree!” 

“It’s the faun’s home, and the faun said we could stay.” Jesse spat. He was looking distinctly wolfish- sharp teeth, furry ears, paws instead of hands bristling with blunt claws, fur starting to dapple his tanned skin. 

“Please no more fighting.” The faun stopped in front of the two assembled parties, clearly trying to resist a sigh. “The Reaper has arrived.” 

“Traitors,” Liao wrinkled her nose, glaring out at Gabriel’s guests. “Angela. Torbjorn.” 

“You shouldn’t have kicked Amelie out,” Angela said softly. 

Torbjorn didn’t bother to justify himself. 

“Ana and the rest of them have a right to be here.” Gabriel said bluntly. “They’re former Overwatch members.” 

Liao seemed to be calming down, at least a shade. She stood up taller, inhaling and exhaling deeply. 

She was wearing a dress, which struck Gabriel as distinctly odd, because he’d never seen her in a dress before. It showed off her bare, muscular arms, and was one of those side-slit ones. Her legs were clad in thin black pants, lace-up leather boots adorning her feet instead of heels or something similar. Her hair was done up in a neat bun, as usual, with some of it stylishly allowed to escape on the right half of her face. Her dark skin practically glowed. Her dress had feathers around the neckline, and around the end of the sleeves. Bright gold, dyed, most certainly. 

Ana was in her usual wear. Hanzo looked absolutely stunning in his suit, the vampiric handsomeness nearly taking Gabriel’s breath away. He ended up having to force himself to tear his eyes away in order to look at Hanzo’s husband. Jesse was also in a suit, but didn’t look nearly as at home in it ( or as handsome in it ) as Hanzo. His tie was too loose, and he had stubbornly insisted on his stupid cowboy hat. Reinhardt also had a suit, that must’ve been tailored in order to fit his absolutely huge frame. 

Mei was wearing a Chinese styled red dress, Tracer was still in her aviator jacket, boots, and orange leggings. Pharah was wearing some kind of blue-tinted armor stylized to look like a… Bird? A winged person? Gabriel had no idea. 

Zarya was in normal street clothes. A T-shirt, sweatpants, lace-up boots. Gabriel envied her. 

“Fine. I guess they can stay.” She agreed reluctantly. “Where’s the Prophet?” 

“He hasn’t arrived yet.” The god-faun replied simply. “He said he would bring along one of his djinni monks and a vampire.” 

Liao gave a grunt. 

“If any of you have nothing to do during your wait, I could give a lecture on the aerodynamic principles of mass and density-” The faun began, ears twitching excitedly. 

“We’ll be fine,” Gabriel said hastily. Fuck if he was gonna listen to some lame-ass nerd shit. “We can wait.” 

Angela and Torbjorn tentatively mingled with the four Overwatch women- Jack drew Liao into a conversation, which left him to talk to Ana and the others.

“I’m glad you’re all here.” He confided a little nervously. “Why didn’t the Shambali leave with you?”

“They insisted we leave first.” Ana replied comfortably. 

_ It’s a trap. Obviously a trap. They’re going to swarm this place with constructs and we’re all going to die.  _ Gabriel’s brain shrieked at him unhelpfully. He shoved the thought aside. He could teleport. And Liao was immortal. And so was the  _ god,  _ come to think of it. It’d be a really fucking dumb strategic move, and Mondatta was smarter than that, at least.

“That’s odd.” He said neutrally. “Did they say why?” 

“Last minute prayer.” Hanzo provided simply. “To their lady, the Iris.” 

“That shouldn’t have delayed them by  _ that  _ much. Speaking of that kinda stuff, though, how  _ did  _ you get here?” 

“We took a plane.” Ana said, amused. “What were you expecting?” 

“How did Reinhardt fit?” Gabriel asked.

“I laid on the floor,” Reinhardt recalled happily. 

“Some planes are exclusively for supernatural creatures,” Ana told him in a low voice. “Very discreet.” 

“The djinn get on one?” 

“Yes.” Ana provided simply. “If I had to guess… They’ll be delayed an hour or so.” 

“Oh, good. Anyone seen any neat movies recently? Done anything cool?” Gabriel asked, hoping the hour long wait would not be full of awkward silence.

Jesse gave a sleepy grin. “Done anythin’ cool, huh?” He nudged Hanzo’s chest with his elbow. “Hanzo here can do a cool little trick with his mouth-” 

“ _ Jesse!”  _ The vampire stamped his heel down on the werewolf’s toes, and Jesse let out a little yelp. 

“Sorry, sorry, darlin’, but you’re very talented…” 

“Not the place for this kind of discussion.” Hanzo muttered. Were his cheeks starting to tinge red? “I notice that you’ve taken a mate, Reyes-san.” 

Gabriel nearly choked on his own spit. “What?” 

“His smell is all over you. The griffin’s.” Hanzo gave a slight, jerky nod. “Congratulations.”

“It was all over him last time we talked, too.” Jesse gave a slight shake of his head. “I told you, but’cha didn’t believe me.” 

“I made appropriate reparations,” Hanzo folded his arms.

“Oh  _ yeah  _ you did, sweetpea,” Jesse crooned. Hanzo seemed to be resisting the urge to punch him in the mouth. Gabriel could relate, though Jack didn’t tease him  _ that  _ much. 

“So. What’s being up in Nepal like?” Gabriel prompted. “You guys stayed for a couple weeks, right?”

“The djinn are wary of me.” Hanzo provided. “As if I would lead them away from their life of worship and chastity.” 

“I’m the only hunk’a meat Hanzo needs.” Jesse drawled, tipping up his hat. “Ain’t that right?” 

Hanzo ignored him. “They regard Jesse as a stupid animal. Daily my patience is tested when they regard him as an idiot dog in a man’s body.” 

“You’ve called me somethin’ similar to that plenty of times, sunshine.” 

“I am the only one allowed to do so,” Hanzo growled, unmoved. 

“What about for the rest of you?” Gabriel glanced to Ana and Reinhardt, hoping to escape the power couple.

“They stay out of my way,” Reinhardt provided in that loud not-quite-yelling voice of his. “They are small, you see. I have accidentally run into a lot of monks.” 

Gabriel glanced at Ana, who returned his stare curiously. He didn’t hold it long, preferring to fixate on the ground.

“Ah. Reinhardt…” 

“Hmm?” 

“Torbjorn came with me.” 

“That old dog…” Reinhardt’s voice dropped low and his eyes tracked across the floor. “Where is he?”

Torbjorn had looked up at the sound of his name- his face twisted into something even more unpleasant than the ugliness on his face by default. Bad blood, Gabriel guessed. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up…

“Hey, Wilhelm.” Torbjorn muttered. 

“Speak up! I cannot hear you from down there!” Reinhardt bellowed.

“I said  _ HELLO!”  _

“How is your wife, you bad-tempered little rodent?” Reinhardt called. 

“She’s fine. Are you and Ana…?” Torbjorn asked sourly, folding his arms. 

“Three years ago. I would have invited you, but you disappeared!” Reinhardt said, giving a slight shake of his head. Gabriel had known they were married, especially since he got a glimpse at the first future, but he was unpleasantly reminded of Reinhardt’s size in comparison to Ana’s and Torbjorn’s, and he wondered how the hell they’d ever managed to… Well. 

“I wouldn’t have come anyway,” Torbjorn sniffed. 

Reinhardt knelt, still managing to be taller than Torbjorn, and abruptly wrapped his arms around the little dwarf.

“I missed you, my friend. Your badtemperedness… It brings me back!” 

Torbjorn snorted grouchily, but returned the hug. 

Gabriel decided to not get involved- He turned his attention away from Reinhardt and Torbjorn, who were now catching up. Their breakup must’ve not been that bad, because Reinhardt was happily chatting away and Torbjorn was begrudgingly adding in a few words here or there. 

Liao and Jack had moved off into a corner and were talking to one another, in a deep and serious conversation. After a few minutes of indistinct talking, Jack headed over to Gabriel with a look of unpleasantness on his face.

“Liao asked-” 

“The Shambali are here!” One of the serving fauns bleated, interrupting Jack and every other person presently speaking. 

_ Oh my god thank you I could not have lasted through an entire hour of this shit. _

A few seconds later, Mondatta, Zenyatta, and Genji filed into the room. Mondatta was swathed in brilliant white robes, patterned with silver shapes. The pointy ears, the eyes, his posture- He was regal and he didn’t care what anyone thought of him, negative or positive. He kept his hands folded gracefully behind his back, his robes moving in a hypnotically smooth rippling motion with every step. 

Liao almost lost her composure- Gabriel could practically feel her straining, like a chained pit bull pulling against its leash in the desire to hunt a cat or a squirrel. Zarya put herself between the djinn and Liao, which did not seem to help much. 

“Apologies for our delay.” Zenyatta was the one to speak. He was clothed in a similar garb to Mondatta’s, though he didn’t radiate the same ancient authority that the Prophet did. 

“You’d think those who could see the future would forsee being late,” Liao spat. “Couldn’t get going earlier?” 

Zarya gave Liao a warning glance, and the first Reaper exhaled deeply, trying to keep calm. 

“Our view of the future is not concrete.” Mondatta replied peaceably. “Now that we are all present, I believe it’s time to present the case.” 

“I prepared a room,” The faun provided quietly. “For all of us to assemble in. Seventeen people, correct?” 

Gabriel tried to count in his head.  _ Mondatta, Zenyatta, Genji, Ana, Reinhardt-  _ Wait a minute.

“Two people aren’t present.” Gabriel objected. 

“The pixie and the…” The faun hesitated. “The human? They arrived a few minutes ago, on the tail of the Shambali. They said they would not actually attend the meeting, but would wait outside the front door. They didn’t tell me why.”

_ Plan four.  _ Gabriel realized. It would be easier to keep Jack and the others penned in if Roadhog could block the doors.  _ Clever bastard.  _

“They don’t really have a stake in this.” Gabriel shrugged. “They’re going to stay outside.”

“Well, no point in paying them too much heed if they’re not going to intrude.” The faun said simply. He made a two-fingered gesture, indicating everyone should follow him. “I’ll lead the way.”

Everyone separated into their own groups- Present Overwatch members, Talon, Ana’s band, and the Shambali.

The room had a massive stone table- large enough to fit maybe fifty people- which gave everyone ample space to spread out. It was rectangular- two large chairs on either end, two large across from one another roughly in the middle. There were twenty normally-sized chairs running down each length of the table. The faun took one of the large chairs on the long end. 

“Reaper. Prophet. Overwatch leader.” The faun indicated Gabriel sit at the very end of the table, across from him. Mondatta was put on the left, Liao on the right. Gabriel sat in his selected chair, Talon taking the chairs around him. After a brief moment of hesitation, Ana, Reinhardt, Hanzo, and Jesse also took chairs beside Talon. Zenyatta and Genji took the closest chairs to Mondatta, while the Overwatch crew took those next to Liao. 

The doors of the room slid shut with a soft  _ whoosh.  _ Two monsters with a man’s upper body and the lower legs of some kind of hooved creature stood in front of the door, barring it, spears in hand. They both had long, elaborately braided beards, huge cow-like horns, and nose rings. Minotaurs? 

A small dog- a Pomeranian?- climbed into the god-faun’s lap, and he cleared his throat. The faun staff scurried around, distributing glasses of water to the assembled people and hovering nearby, anxiously waiting to refill glasses should the need arise.

“I understand this is your first Reaper hearing,” The faun said simply. “It is not my first. Tradition is for the injured party to tell what the problem is. The sides will present their cases as to why they have acted the way they did, and debate  _ civilly. _ There will be an intermission. Then you may decide, Reaper.”  

“Alright then.” Gabriel made a sweeping gesture to Mondatta, who stood. 

The faun interjected before Mondatta could say anything, adding: “Before we begin- I won’t tolerate violence in my home. These halls are hallowed- dedicated to peace and the pursuit of intelligence. Any offenders are going to be punished.” The faun cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, making a slight gesture as if to tell everyone to proceed. 

Mondatta’s voice was elegant and authoritative- Very easy to listen to, which was a good quality in a leader. “The Shambali have noticed a crisis in the coming years. An unprecedented number of djinn are dying, and dying quickly. On behalf of not just our own- but at the Lady Iris’ request- we made an appeal to Overwatch for an investigation or assistance. We were rejected without so much as a reason why.” His voice echoed off the high ceiling, adding an almost otherworldly tone to the already ethereal djinni. 

Silence reigned. 

“I would request assistance, or, at the very least, an explanation.” 

Fareeha rose unexpectedly. 

“Is everyone aware of what is happening in Russia?” 

Some scattered mumbling. 

“In Russia, there is a second Construction war brewing. Hundreds of lives have been lost in the conflict already, even though it is on a small scale. The snow and the werebears of the region aren’t going to fend the constructs off, and they’ve shown no signs of stopping. Along with them are djinn.” A sharp glance in Mondatta’s direction. The djinni looked slightly shaken.

“I- I had nothing to do with this.” 

“Really?” Liao stood up, Fareeha sat down. Gabriel could tell Liao was enjoying watching Mondatta squirm far too much- Far,  _ far  _ too much- “You’re the only one who’s ever been known to do this, to control a construct force on this scale. Perhaps you decided that waiting for Overwatch’s help took too long? That you would save the djinn by trying to wipe out humanity  _ again?”  _ Her face twisted in a sneer. “There are orphans. Widows. Widowers. Parents who have lost their children. People who have lost their friends and homes.” 

“It is  _ my _ home that is being attacked.” Zarya said, her voice clear-cut and with a slash of burning, furious  _ anger  _ through it. She stood up, pounding a fist on the table, jabbing an accusatory finger at the djinni. “My home is being destroyed because of you. We will give you no help- Consider yourself lucky I do not strike you down where you are!” 

“Be at peace.” The god-faun advised coolly. “Mondatta?” 

“I have not sanctioned any kind of fighting- I was completely unaware this was even happening.” 

“You are the djinn authority,” Liao spat. “Were you unaware, or turning a blind eye? Or  _ responsible  _ for it, and now caught like a rat in a trap? Did you think we wouldn’t  _ find out  _ that you’re trying to kill us  _ again-”  _

“You’re caught in the past.” Mondatta shot back. “Might I remind you that you butchered countless atronachs, djinn, and golems with your own two hands?” 

“Don’t play innocent! You’ve killed just as many as I have! You gave the order for humanity to be wiped out, and when you failed, you decided to bide your time and wait for a foolish Reaper to take your sob story about oppression-” 

“I have ordered  _ no one  _ to go to Russia!” Mondatta had gotten half-way out of his chair. 

“Then who  _ did?  _ You’re the only one here who’s ever done anything of the kind-” 

“You’ve got a thousand year old grudge- Your judgement is clouded!” 

“Overwatch will  _ not  _ help the djinn! Now, or  _ ever!”  _

There was a pause- Liao had her palms flat on the table, panting furiously, and even Mondatta had risen out of his seat. Genji and Zenyatta were halfway standing, and Zarya hadn’t ever bothered to sit down. 

“Peace, please.” The faun tapped a hoof against the stone floor. “Reaper, would you care to weigh in?”

“No.” Gabriel provided curtly.

There was a chorus of complaints, from the Overwatch side and Genji in particular. 

“Take a stance, Reyes-san, or I swear to you-!” The vampire hollered. 

“Genji, enough!” Zenyatta barked, unexpectedly forceful. “You cannot  _ threaten  _ someone into helping you.”

“That’s what you’re doing right now!” Liao yowled. “You’re threatening all of us with getting our souls eaten by the Reaper if we don’t comply!” 

“That’s not what this is!” Mondatta insisted. 

“Isn’t it!? What is the  _ purpose  _ of the Reaper, Mondatta!? You should know, you had a hand in its creation, didn’t you!?” Liao slammed her palms on the table for emphasis. 

“Stop!” Jack was the one to interrupt this time. “Liao, we’re not going to get anywhere arguing in circles with personal debates. Can we be certain that it’s Mondatta who’s controlling the constructs?”

“No, but-”

“He’s not guilty until you have proof.” Jack told her, voice dipping into a low, serious tone. 

“He is connected with it.” Zarya growled. “He is the head of the djinn, and he knows about the situation in Russia. He did not care to do anything about it.” 

“Mondatta?”

“What  _ could  _ I do?” Mondatta asked helplessly.

“Order them to stop!” Zarya barked. “You are their leader!”

“There’s not a chance that the Prophet isn’t pulling the strings,” Liao snapped. “No one else has been capable of controlling constructs like this except for him- He’s lying to us, to all of us!” 

The god-faun rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re a murderer and a liar! You cheat and beguile for petty revenge!” Mondatta balled his fists. “You want me dead, want all the djinn dead- The reason you won’t help us isn’t because of the uprising, it’s simply an  _ excuse  _ to justify letting us die!” 

Liao shook her head, furious. “Gabriel-”

“You should address him as Reaper.” The god-faun reminded her gently. 

“Permission from the Reaper and yourself to have a private conversation with the Reaper?” She was looking directly at the faun heading the table as she spoke. 

“What are you planning?” Suspicion burned in all nine of Mondatta’s eyes. 

“I consent.” The god-faun said quietly.

_ Here it is. The beginning. This is where it all goes in motion.  _

Gabriel’s stomach was doing somersaults, quaking pathetically. 

_ I either talk her out of this or die. Alright.  _

The Glock was practically burning a hole in his pocket. He swallowed dry. 

“I don’t see why not.”

“I would like time to privately speak with the Reaper as well,” Mondatta insisted. 

“Of course. In the interest of fairness… But Liao made the request first. Everyone else, remain in your seats. You may have ten minutes to privately discuss.” 

The faun snapped his fingers- an hourglass appeared, floating in the air beside his head. He waved one of his fingers lazily, and the hourglass flipped upside-down, starting to pool sand in the bottom. 

Gabriel and Liao got out of their seats.

“Gabriel-” Jack raised a hand, pausing, as if to stop him from leaving. Gabriel’s stomach twisted.  _ I can’t do this. I can’t say it. I can’t-  _

“I’ll be right back, Jack. Love you.” He said, trying and failing to not sound breathless. Angela gently grabbed Jack’s wrist, guiding it back into the griffin’s lap.

“Love you,” Jack echoed, looking a shade worried. 

It was out of character. Gabriel knew it. He didn’t say  _ I love you  _ so arbitrarily. He almost never said it. And definitely wouldn’t if it was just a friendly little business meeting between him and Liao.

The minotaurs parted to let Liao and Gabriel pass. 

“We should head outside,” Gabriel suggested, keeping his voice light and friendly. “More privacy.” 

_ Don’t let her see you sweat.  _

Liao gave a slight, subconscious nod. “Have you considered my offer?”

“I have.” Gabriel quickened his pace. Had to get outside for the plan to work. 

He made it to the entrance of the faun’s home. The doors were easily pushed open, as if they weighed no more than a feather rather than several tons of solid rock. He closed them behind himself. 

“And?”

Gabriel moved several paces out, heading to the middle-ish of the canyon. Were they in Amelie’s line of sight? No way to check without alerting Liao to the fact that there was a sniper up on the lip of the canyon. So be it.

Roadhog and Jamison were nowhere to be seen. Perfect.

“I think that you have a grudge. I think that… I know you’re not going to just let it go easily.” Gabriel shook his head ever so slightly. “But the djinni are  _ dying.  _ Whether or not Mondatta controls them, whether or not that construct war is guided by his hand, there are innocent people who are hurting. Killing Mondatta is going to incite them, incite violence against us.” 

Liao’s brow wrinkled. 

“I had that figured out.”

“Did you?” Gabriel glanced back at her. Maybe her plan had merits he hadn’t considered. Maybe he didn’t have to go through with plan four.

“Here’s how my plan was going to go.”

He didn’t know if she was the one to incite it, or Gabriel was, but they were pacing around one another in a circle, eyes locked. 

“We were going to get Mondatta to take the Reaper out of you.” Liao said softly. 

“I know that bit.”

“I’m not done. After I swooped in and claimed the Reaper for my own, I would kill Mondatta. Then you.”

“Me?” Gabriel echoed. The full impact of what she’d said made him dizzy, queasy- his flipping stomach dropped somewhere into his shoes while his heart leapt into his throat, jackhammer pounding making it difficult to breathe. 

“Yes. I knew there would be violence stirred against me and Overwatch if I had come forth and claimed to kill Mondatta, and saying it was an accident wasn’t believable, not if I was there.” 

The pacing circles were growing faster. Gabriel felt faint. Sick. 

“Reapers go savage all the time.” Liao said. There was a hint to her tone, a shred of pure  _ madness,  _ of all-consuming insanity, and Gabriel grew…  _ afraid.  _ “What was one more? You were always angry. Always violent. Maybe Mondatta told you something you didn’t want to hear. Maybe you lashed out. Maybe I got scared when you killed him. Maybe I killed you, and accidentally took the Mantle. Would it be hard to believe? Oh, yes. But do you know who’d take the flak from it?”

An unpleasant little smile played across Liao’s lips.

“Talon. Angela- dead. Torbjorn- dead. That Sombra- dead. My only fucking regret is that Amelie died before I could get her, too.” 

“What about Jack,” He couldn’t make it a question. It came out as a strangled whisper. 

“Jack was my friend. With enough corrective thinking…” A slight quirk of her head. “He loved one Reaper. I see no reason he wouldn’t love again.”

“You’re sick.” 

“This whole world is sick. Diseased and rotten. It’s the djinn. It all starts with the damn  _ djinn.  _ But I’m gonna fucking stop it, Gabriel. It’s all going to be over, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. With you alive, I’m immortal. Try to kill me as many times as you like- torture me, lock me away, but you’re not going to be around if anyone does manage to kill me.” Her movements were predatory- not pacing,  _ prowling.  _ “So be a good little boy and listen closely to what I say.” 

His thighs were quivering. Fear. Definitely fear. 

“We’re altering plans. You’re going to go in there and kill Mondatta. Eat his goddamn soul right in front of  _ everyone.  _ Then I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m not doing shit. What the hell do you have over me?” Gabriel snarled. 

“There’s a middle-aged griffin sitting in that conference room.” Liao’s voice dropped to a smooth purr, and a wave of nausea made Gabriel’s world spin. “He can still get out of this okay. But if  _ someone  _ doesn’t comply, I’m going to get myself a new lion-skin coat. Do you know how much it hurts to get skinned ali-”

“Stop!” Gabriel’s brain provided him with more than enough imagery. “You’re fucking insane. You’re- you’re-”

“Saving. Humanity.” Liao said, her eyes blazing. It was madness, it was rage, it was thousands of years of pain. “And I’m not going to let friendship get in the way of it. I loved you as a friend, Gabriel, but there are things bigger, more important, than friendship. I’m going to be a hero- the hero I  _ should’ve been.  _ I’m going to stop a murderous djinni. I’m going to put an end to a war. And you- You’re just going to be the weak-minded psychopath who made it possible.” 

The Glock weighed his pocket down- he reached for it, pulling it free of his pocket. His heart fluttered like a caged bird.

_ She’s going to hurt Jack. If you don’t do what she says, she’s going to kill him. _

_ This is bigger than me. Bigger than Jack.  _

“Bullets can’t stop me.” Liao said with a snort. “Go ahead. Empty the whole goddamn clip. It won’t kill me. You  __ _can't_ kill me."

“I’m not trying to kill you,” Gabriel said quietly.

He opened his mouth, jamming the gun inside. The trigger guard scraped against his bottom teeth, the sight dug into the roof of his mouth. Cold plastic wasn’t entirely pleasant to have in his mouth, and the taste was… Well. He had bigger things to worry about the taste, he’d just shoved a gun into his mouth. Safety off. Magazine loaded. Finger on the trigger. Prayers sent.  _ I love you’ _ s said. Goodbyes said. 

_ Angela, don’t fuck this one up.  _

“I win,” He told Liao through the mouthful of barrel.

He pulled the trigger. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?R2FicmllbCBGdWNraW5nIERpZXMgKEFnYWluKQ==
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?IklzIGFueW9uZSByZWFkaW5nIHRoZXNlPyI=
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?VHVybiBiYWNrIG5vdyBpZiB5b3UgZG9uJ3Qgd2FudCBzcG9pbGVycywgb3Igb3BlbiB0aGUgbmV4dCBsaW5rIGZvciBzb21ldGhpbmcgZ29vZA==
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?QXJlIHlvdSBzdXJlIHlvdSB3YW50IHRoaXM/IFlvdSBjYW4gY2xpY2sgb2ZmLCB5b3Uga25vdy4gVGhlIG5leHQgY2hhcHRlciBjb21lcyBvdXQgb24gRnJpZGF5Lg==
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?T2theSwgeW91IGFza2VkLg==
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?J0dvdCBhIGRyYWdvbiB0aGF0IGJpZyBpbiB5b3VyIHBhbnRzLCB0b28/JyBMaWFvIGxldCBvdXQgYSBicmVhdGhsZXNzIGxpdHRsZSBsYXVnaCwgdHJhY2luZyB0aGUgaW5rIHdpdGggaGVyIGZpbmdlcnRpcHMu
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?WWVzLCB0aGF0IGxpbmUgaXMgYWN0dWFsbHkgaW4gdGhlIG5leHQgY2hhcHRlci4=
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?SSdtIHNvcnJ5Lg==
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?U3RvcCBjbGlja2luZyBvbiB0aGVzZSBsaW5rcy4=
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?IlNlcmlvdXNseSwgc3RvcC4i
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?IklzIHRoYXQgbm90IGdvb2QgZW5vdWdoIGZvciB5b3U/IERvIHlvdSB3YW50IG1vcmU/Ig==
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?T2theSwgaG93IGFib3V0IHRoaXMu
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?VGhlIG9ubHkgdGhpbmcga2VlcGluZyB0aGVtIGFsbC0gZXZlcnkgc2luZ2xlIG9uZSBvZiB0aGVtLSBmcm9tIGJlaW5nIHNsYXVnaHRlcmVkIGxpa2UgY3JpcHBsZWQgcHVwcGllcyB3YXMgYSBsb25lIHZhbXBpcmUgd2l0aCBub3RoaW5nIGJ1dCBoaXMgbmF0dXJhbCBjaGFybSBhbmQgaGlzIGJvZHku
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?QXJlIHlvdSBkb25lIG5vdz8=
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> http://alexanderlozada.com/iasip/?R29vZC4gVGhhdCdzIGFsbCB5b3UncmUgZ2V0dGluZy4gV2FpdCB1bnRpbCBGcmlkYXku


	48. Your Worst Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finds Gabriel's body, and there's an out-and-out brawl that displays the true might of the first Reaper.

Gunshots were loud.

“What was that?” Jack was the first to rise out of his chair at the sound, already up before the rest of the assembled people had even sluggishly moved to stand. 

There was a heartbeat of pause. No one knew.

No one except Angela. 

“It was Gabriel’s last resort.” The harpy said quietly. 

There was a clamor of voices- Jack, most especially- demanding to know what the hell was happening. Talon and Ana’s group looked to be about five seconds from lunging at the assembled Overwatch members- McCree, Ana, and Torbjorn were hurling accusations of foul play. Hanzo and Reinhardt were attempting to do damage control, reigning the aggressors in and keeping any fights from escalating. 

“Last resort? What the hell do you mean,  _ last resort?”  _ Jack demanded.

“I mean, stay in here and don’t go outside for-” Angela took a second. “Five minutes. Just wait patiently for five min-”

Jack grabbed her wrist, squeezing none too gently. He thought he might’ve heard delicate avian bones creak- her face twisted in pain, but kept the glint of determination. “What the hell did he do? What the hell just happened?” 

“Just wait for-”

“I’m not waiting for  _ anything,  _ God dammit, he’s my-” Boyfriend wasn’t right. Too shallow, too childish. Lover wasn’t right either. Friend, definitely not. Husband… No. 

Without finishing his sentence, Jack charged for the doors. Angela threw out a hand, fingers catching on Jack’s shoulders, but he slipped free like a well-oiled fish and made a break for the exit. 

_ What did he do? What did Liao do?  _ A creeping sense of fear made Jack’s insides squirm. He attempted to soothe himself with a thought:  _ Gabriel had this planned. You know he had this planned. That’s why he kept dancing around you, that frustrating son of a- _

The minotaur guards let him pass without an argument- perhaps they sensed his fear, his anxiety, and felt sympathetic. Or they knew he was a griffin and didn’t fancy their chances if he got angry. Jack pushed the doors open, glancing around frantically. Some shocked, servant faun onlookers quivered in their places, and Jack turned to one.

“Where did Gabriel go?”

“Th- The Reaper went outside, w- with-” 

That was all Jack needed. He took off again, forcing himself to move at a dangerously quick pace. He’d lead the charge for everyone else- The assembled groups of people spilled out of the conference room, curious and scared, following Jack’s lead. Jesse had already transformed into his full wolf body, easily outpacing the human bodies of everyone else and gaining a couple feet on Jack before they both skidded to a halt.

In front of the great stone doorway was a man. 

Seven feet tall. Probably five hundred or six hundred pounds. A wicked hook that he held in hand, immaculately cleaned although dinged up and scratched from age. Roadhog, the mercenary Gabriel hired, the mercenary Gabriel had kept Jack in the dark about. 

“No one is getting past this door.” He growled. The sound was deep, reverberating. He tossed his head up higher, warning in a yell to any of the people who hadn’t heard: “No one’s getting past!”

Jack attempted to peer past him. Big as Roadhog was, the doors were bigger, and it gave Jack a peek outside. 

Two people. One of them, lying prone on the ground, limp and splayed. The other one, standing. Liao was the one standing, had to be- her red dress trimmed with golden feathers wasn’t exactly indistinct.

Which meant the other had to be…

Gabriel. Oh God,  _ Gabriel.  _

Liao paced forward slowly, kneeling down next to Gabriel. It was hard to tell from the angle they were at, but it looked like she was checking his pulse. Jack attempted to push past Roadhog, but the massive Aussie shoved him away, wordlessly raising his hook in warning. 

Liao stood, taking Gabriel with her. She lifted him up by the front of his suit- his head lolled brokenly, his limbs dangling in a sickeningly limp way. The angle wasn’t exactly right for Jack to distinguish the cause, but Gabriel was wounded, definitely wounded- blood spattered all around his mouth-

Liao shifted her grip on Gabriel’s body and Gabriel’s head slumped forward, giving Jack a look at the top of his lover’s skull. 

Jack had seen people commit suicide. He had also seen people commit suicide with a firearm. In addition, he was not a stranger bullet wounds- he had been the cause of bullet wounds more times than he cared to remember.

It was surreal. 

There was a bullet’s exit wound on Gabriel’s head. The back of his skull had been blown out- blood caked his hair, shreds of grey matter caught on the jagged, fragmented bone of his skull. Jack stared at the horrible, grisly wound in a detached sense of shock. The wound was fresh enough to the point where it was still gushing inky-black blood… Jack’s unwitting mind provided him the violent imagery of Gabriel’s brains, shards of his skull, and thick ropes of blood exploding outward from the shot. That was a mortal injury- Reaper or not, you didn’t  _ survive  _ a shot like that, not without immediate medical assistance, a miracle, or divine intervention.

There was no way to describe what Jack felt as he stared at his lover’s ashy-faced corpse. He was numb, completely numb, emptied out by the kind of raw, hollow pain that’d never be filled again.

“ _ GABRIEL!”  _ Jack screeched, lunging forward. Roadhog caught him, held him back, as he screamed and struggled against him. He bit and clawed and thrashed, his muscle tested against the mercenary’s. “LET ME GO! HE’S MY-” 

Roadhog grabbed his Jack’s arm in a vise grip and jerked without warning.

A scream of agony ripped its way out of Jack’s throat as his shoulder was deftly dislocated, and Roadhog flung him to the ground without the barest hint of sympathy. 

“Try to get past me again and I’ll start breaking necks!” Roadhog bellowed. “That goes for ALL of you!” 

Jack rode out the furious agony, hand flying to clutch his wounded arm on sheer instinct. Painful spasms wracked his body, accompanying his sobs of pain and anguish. 

_ Gabriel… Gabriel, Gabriel, how could this have been part of his plan!? _

He looked up, ignoring the tears that’d broken free and were currently rolling down his face. Liao was still doing something, something with Gabriel’s body. He wanted to scream at her to get away from him, wanted to tear her to pieces, but his arm was in an unholy agony and Roadhog still blocked his path. 

Something was happening. That much he could get. 

Liao was breathing in deeply, as if she’d just stepped out into fresh air after eons of must 

A dark cloud of… Something… quietly slipped out of Gabriel’s mouth, coiling like a snake. Liao dropped Gabriel’s body with sickening disregard, greed crawling across her features. She a step towards the dark sliver of smoke, and the cloud flinched. 

The cloud attempted to flee- it darted away frantically from Liao, but she managed to outpace it and grab it. It shook and wriggled like a fish out of water in her grip, desperate and- dare Jack say it?- frightened. It looked to be smoke, no more able of being grabbed than steam, but evidently it  _ was  _ solid- at least, solid enough to hold.

_ That’s the Reaper,  _ Jack realized uneasily. He buried his grief, as much as he was able, trying to spring for practicality.  _ Is it scared of her?  _

Liao unceremoniously stuffed the cloud in her mouth. Swallowed. 

A physical aura began to radiate around her- smoke wisping in every direction, coiling and curling like a mass of writhing tentacles. Her dark brown skin turned an ashy grey, her eyes burning from a soft chocolate into a sudden bright red. Her skin rippled, momentarily losing chunks of flesh to rot before regrowing. Her teeth lengthened, sharpened, as did her nails. A few extra eyes grew on her cheeks, blinking for a second, before disappearing into her skin. Sharp-toothed mouths formed on her wrists and upper arms, gnashing fangs, then shrank away. 

Liao cracked her neck, flexing her fingers. There was a quiet air of satisfaction about her, all the while a menacing feeling of creeping, sickening fear squirmed in Jack’s stomach.

“It’s been too long,” She murmured to herself, just barely audible for Jack due to his pain and the distance. 

Roadhog silently moved out of the way, and in response, everyone spilled out into the yard. Ana’s crew, Overwatch, Talon- the only ones absent were the Shambali. 

Liao turned to face them.

“What happened?” Mei wasn’t the first one to ask, but she was the clearest voice.

“I’m the Reaper now.” Liao said, soft and simple. “And that means I get to decide this case. I think you know my decision.” 

“What did you do to him?” Jack barely trusted his voice- it was a tremulous whisper. 

“Gave him a choice.” 

“You- you-” 

The change into a griffin was unbidden- Jack didn’t ask for the change, it simply happened. All at once, transhuman bodies began shifting and warping as people geared for a fight. Jack, Zarya, McCree, Mei- They’d all assumed their real bodies.

Jack roared- the sound was broken, pained,  _ angry-  _ but the change had fixed his shoulder, and he could  _ fight.  _

Fury consumed him, unyielding rage, blind and choking. The wild mind of the griffin was guided by revenge, the savagery of man put into the simple mind of a truck-sized beast. He charged for Liao, jaws parted, unthinking, barring how  _ sweet  _ and  _ good  _ Liao’s blood would taste when he reamed her in two. 

Zarya tackled Jack before he could collide with the Reaper. Bear teeth sunk into his neck, attempting to pierce his thick mane. The two of them rolled, the slippery carpet of pine needles beneath them providing very little friction. Jack ended up on his back, with Zarya on top of him- His hind talons slashed at her stomach, attempting to kick her off. Blood sprayed, from Zarya and from Jack, a muddy ursine roar matching Jack’s clear, loud bellow of anger.

Jack had an unexpected savior- The massive yeti stomped over, swaying, and wrapped its arms around the bear, hauling Zarya off him. There was a bark in the yeti’s language- Mei gestured violently to Liao, giving an impassioned grunt and shaking her head. 

Jack let them work out their own goddamn problems. He was free, and Liao was  _ dead.  _

He lunged at her. In response, a tendril of mist wrapped around his waist and lashed him to the ground, stopping him dead. Jack flailed and screeched, claws shredding the dirt and talons kicking clods of earth into the air. His wings beat, tail lashed. 

“If I don’t get Mondatta and the other djinn in the next  _ minute-”  _ A tendril looped around one of Jack’s wings, and his heart seized in uncharacteristic fear. Liao’s voice held no remorse, no compromise, slipping into a terrifying madness.

“- I’m going to start taking hostages. Killing hostages. So one of you go  _ get them.”  _

The bear and yeti broke apart- the unstable, bordering on manic, snarl from Liao had evidently convinced Zarya that Liao was not to be backed any longer.

“Liao!” 

Fareeha shouted. Liao turned her head to glance at her, regarding her the same way one regards a bug.

“What on earth do you think you’re  _ doing?”  _ Fareeha demanded. “This is murder, misconduct-” 

“Fareeha, perhaps you’re not quite sure where the hell we stand.” Liao spat, shaking her head slightly. “I’ve  _ won.  _ I’m the Reaper, and those djinn… They’re  _ not  _ going to cause a second uprising. No one else is going to die, just so long as we wipe them clean.” 

True madness gleamed in the depths of Liao’s newly acquired ruby eyes. “They’re going to be purged, Fareeha, whether or not you support it.” 

“You’re insane!” Fareeha sputtered.

“And you can’t stop me.” The tendril on Jack’s wings tightened-

And  _ pulled.  _

He screamed- desperation, fear, anger- thrashing in terror. 

_ She’s going to try to rip it off-  _

“Listen up, Overwatch!” Fareeha shouted. “Liao’s not Strike-Commander anymore! Which means-” 

“It’s go time!” Tracer trumpeted delightedly. 

Jack could feel the bones of his wing shifting and grinding, his body crying in protest from the pain, getting a limb ripped off was  _ not how-  _

Liao was momentarily distracted by the bear, the yeti, the werewolf, the half-giant, the mother and daughter wizards, and the teleporting witch. She let Jack go and attempted to defend herself- Flinging Jesse away, encompassing Reinhardt in shadow only to get clubbed in the back by Mei and go flying. She caught herself on a bed of shadowed tendrils before she hit the ground, pushing herself to her feet and curling her lip in a snarl. She had evidently bitten her cheek on impact, because she wiped away a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with her knuckle.

Jack joined the fight despite his newly lamed wing. He bellowed challenge, and caught the shred of fear in Liao’s eyes. She hadn’t expected  _ all  _ of them to turn on her. And that gave them a chance. A meager one. A small one. 

But a chance.

Jack lunged for her, and she teleported across the canyon, beside Zarya. 

There was no hesitation, no delay- She grabbed Zarya’s leg, and with a sharp jerk of misty tendrils, broke it with a resounding crack that Jack could hear from his position a hundred feet away. There was a horrible scream of pain from the bear, and Zarya fell on her side, flailing and hollering in agony. Mei came to her defense immediately, giving a screech of rage. She managed to land a solid blow on Liao, slamming her into a wall. Liao slid down brokenly, looking dazed- Before Mei could finish the job, tendrils wrapped around the yeti’s left arm and tore it  _ clean off.  _

Mei’s unholy screech burned Jack’s ears, making him cringe. The offending limb was unceremoniously dropped- Mei staggered backwards, her free hand cradling her new stump. She took several steps backwards, slumping next to Zarya, the wound spurting and waterfalling blood too quickly to be a nonmortal injury. 

She shrank down into the small form of a human, her arm regrown, but exhaustion visible on her face. She wasn’t getting up any time soon- and neither was Zarya.

The remaining number of them- Tracer, Jack, Jesse, Reinhardt- grouped together. Reinhardt sent a column of flame sweeping forward with a sharp gesture of his hand, which Liao dodged with ease. 

Jesse and Jack charged for Liao together, Tracer teleporting behind the new Reaper while Reinhardt sent more fire strikes in her direction. 

Liao coiled tendrils of shadow around Jesse and Jack, and smashed them together forcefully like a two-year-old playing with action figures. Stunned and knocked breathless, she dropped the both of them to the earth. She was slow on the uptake when it came to Tracer, though, who giggled as she teleported onto Liao’s back. She slapped something on Liao’s shoulder, a blue device that pulsed and glowed for half a second- 

“Here you go!” Tracer cried happily, teleporting away. 

\- Then promptly exploded. 

To Jack’s dismay, Liao  _ wasn’t  _ blown to smithereens. She was propelled backwards, using a multitude of tendrils to cushion her landing. Must’ve muffled the explosion with the shadowy mist… Or simply turned into mist for half a second and taken on solid form immediately afterwards. 

Tracer had seemingly vanished into the unknown- Jack certainly didn’t see her anywhere.  

Evidently deciding Reinhardt was the biggest remaining threat, Liao flicked her fingers- A column of smoke wrapped around the half-giant’s throat and jerked him to the earth, viciously choking. Ana ran over from the sidelines to aide him, while Jack and Jesse regrouped and attacked again. 

Liao let out a cry of pain and anguish- She hadn’t prepared for Jack’s charge, focused on Jesse, and he sunk his teeth into her hip, relishing the gush of Reaper blood beneath his teeth and the scream of agony he’d wrenched from her throat. He hoped it hurt. He hoped it was the worst pain she’d ever been in- he hoped it was even  _ fraction  _ of how much it hurt to see Gabriel’s broken, bloodied body dangling from her hands. 

The satisfaction didn’t last long. 

Liao teleported away. Jack whirled around, trying to look for her-  _ Where the hell did she go?-  _ and found her nearby Reinhardt, crouched down and healing her new toothmarks. Jesse went to tackle her, pressing his luck now that she was wounded.

She grabbed him with two different tendrils, one around his torso, the other just above his lower legs. She twisted, and there was a sharp snap- Jesse’s hind legs dangled limply, and the werewolf let out a surprised scream of fright and pain- Broken spine, paralysis, Jack read the wound instantly. She was slowly picking them off with debilitating wounds, every last combatant, one by one-

Reinhardt had been choked out, and was slumped on his front in the dirt, unconscious. Ana was petting his hair, using magic to keep him steady. Mei was slumped over Zarya’s flank, shallowly breathing, and Zarya’s bearish eyes were glazed over with pain and regret. Jesse was pathetically, painfully whimpering, frantically licking his lower half as if it would return feeling to his paralyzed body.

Tracer and Fareeha met no better fate. Tracer was bodily slammed against the stone wall of the canyon the second she stopped teleporting, bones crunching from the impact- Tracer was slammed a second time for good measure, and the young Brit slumped onto the ground, leaving a smear of blood. Fareeha gave it a last shot, casting explosive magic spells from high up in the air, but Liao coiled a tendril around her legs and jerked her to the earth. The impact definitely broke  _ some  _ bones, and the pained, agonized screaming from the Egyptian witch managed to pull Ana from Reinhardt’s side to attend to her daughter.

Just Jack left. 

He faced Liao down, growling softly. The Reaper was breathing hard, blinking rapidly. She seemed to sway- too much power usage, too quickly. Jack might have a chance. Might have a chance.

“He killed himself, Jack.” Liao told him in a growl. “He shot himself.” 

Bullshit.

Jack lunged furiously, jaws parted, wings flared- A tendril wrapped around Jack’s upper torso, squeezing with a sudden vice grip that ground Jack’s ribs until they  _ broke.  _

That ended that. 

He hit the ground, skidding to a halt in the dirt, barely able to breathe for all the agony. Static flickered over his vision, and if he had been able, he would’ve cried tears of frustration, rage, and  _ pain.  _

And, with his defeat, no one was left to stop her. 

“Who dies first?” Liao asked ponderously. There was a sick enjoyment to her voice, and Jack didn’t think he’d ever hated anyone more than her at this exact moment. “Tracer. You were always disobedient… Or  _ Mei.  _ You turned Zarya against me. Incited this.” 

Her red gaze slid to Jesse.

“The mutt. I remember you. From the police station.” 

She took a slow, ambling step towards him. 

“Tried to take a bite out of me.” 

Another slow step.

“You’re probably upset. Paralysis isn’t any fun, is it?” 

Jesse whimpered in alarm. 

“Don’t worry. Soon enough you won’t be feeling  _ anything.”  _

Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and trembled.

The most unlikely savior swooped in at the last minute:

Hanzo. 

A man Jack had barely met. In fact, he was pretty sure this  _ was  _ the first time they’d ever met face-to-face; Jack only knew the vampire because Gabriel had mentioned him a handful of times. 

He stood between Liao and Jesse.

“You’ll get your turn,” Liao snarled, motioning to push him aside.

“Hold on,” Hanzo replied. There was a soft, warm honey to his words that made Jack almost melt- his pain seemed to stagnate, his breathing steadying. The miserable whines and groans of the conscious, injured people gathered all around slowed.

Vampire glamour. Vampire charm. 

No fucking way it would work on Liao.

Hanzo quietly started undoing his bow tie- Liao watched with fixed, rapt attention, making no motion to go after Jesse. He unthreaded it from around his throat and tossed it on the ground, then started slowly, gracefully, undoing the buttons of his jacket.

“You are a beautiful woman,” Hanzo whispered raggedly. “The most beautiful woman I have ever met.” 

Jack was fully aware the words for Liao, but he felt… Flattered. Charmed. If this was what it was like for Jack, then what was  _ Liao  _ experiencing-? 

“I don’t want to be rude. Or intrude upon you…” Hanzo continued slowly, stripping off his suit jacket. Jack’s heart beat a shred faster. He was faithful to Gabriel, but- 

“But I would prefer it if we were to do something different.” The words were thick, coated with genuine honey, raw charm. And Liao was  _ ensnared.  _ “It’s hot out here, don’t you agree?” 

“Yeah…” Liao’s eyes roved greedily over Hanzo’s form. 

“Perhaps I should remove my undershirt.” Hanzo said ponderously.

“Do it.” There was a rough growl to her words, a dominant and lusty undercurrent. “Go on,  _ vampire…  _ I remember how arrogant, how confident you were… You need to be put in your place…” 

Hanzo quietly, without so much as a second of hesitation, started unbuttoning his undershirt. He removed it and bared his chest to her… And it was a nice chest, Jack had to admit. He was just as enthralled as Liao, just as incapable of removing his eyes from Hanzo’s body.

Lean muscle, that came from rigorous dieting and exercise, but a body that looked so natural to Hanzo that anything else other than this physique would’ve been out of place. There was a massive, winding tattoo of a dragon running down his left arm, a blue-patterned beast that must’ve been there for decades at least. 

“Got a dragon that big in your pants, too?” Liao let out a breathless little laugh, tracing the ink with her fingertips. Her eyes roved hungrily over his bared muscles, taking in the sight and  _ relishing  _ it. 

Hanzo didn’t break his facade. “Mmm.” 

Liao was the one who initiated- she slid forward, throwing her arms around Hanzo’s neck. She brushed kisses against his throat, occasionally nipping his flesh. Hanzo’s face twinged in very obvious disgust and pain when her sharp teeth broke his skin, but his vampiric charm remained, keeping Liao in place…

Jesse let out a betrayed, pained whine of anguish.

Jack had never felt so helpless in his life.

The only thing keeping them all- every single one of them- from being slaughtered like crippled puppies was a lone vampire with nothing but his natural charm and his body.

...

At the very least, Jack would soon join Gabriel. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming on Monday: 
> 
> Chapter 49: Closed Curtains for Liao
> 
> EDIT 2/3/2017, 11:15- Currently sick as a dog and running a fever. Chapter 50 may or may not go up on Tuesday, depending if I've got the work ethic to finish the damn thing over the weekend.


	49. Closed Curtains on Liao

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel could be having a better day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheatley voice: SURPRISE! WE'RE DOING IT NOW!
> 
> ( i know i promised to post this on Monday, but I can't wait any more than you guys can! )

Gabriel Reyes opened his eyes.

And coughed. Coughed a lot, actually, because his mouth was full of blood.

He ran his tongue experimentally over the roof of his mouth. As flawless and perfect as it had ever been- almost like he hadn’t shot and killed himself. There was the minor fact there was still that lingering, coppery-salty taste in his mouth and blood in his lungs and throat that must’ve leaked down there while he was a cooling corpse. Other than that, though, definitely the same as usual. He preferred to think the chunk of _something_ he coughed up was just a clot of blood and not a chunk of his own brain that’d dislodged after the bullet pierced his skull and had subsequently fallen through the roof of his mouth.

“Easy, easy…” Angela cautioned.

“I should give you a raise.” Gabriel rasped. God. He sounded like death, too.

“You don’t pay me.”

“I should start doing that.” Gabriel’s head lolled- he didn’t quite feel strong enough to hold it up yet. Deadly lethargy.

Maybe the fact that his brain was trying to make stupid quips and jokes was a defense mechanism. Gabriel really, _really_ did not want to contemplate what being dead was like for longer than maybe a second.

“How long was I, you know-?”

“Hard to say. Ten minutes? Fifteen?” Angela looked around worriedly. “How do you feel?”

“Dead,” he joked weakly.

“That’s not altogether unusual… Considering you died.”

“Speaking of dying… How’s everyone else?”

He attempted to sit up, slightly woozy. Angela steadied him, her eyes sweeping over him with careful medical consideration. Her hand was a reassuring, constant presence on his back.

“Careful. It’s been a long time, you might not have full control of your muscles... Nerve damage from being dead for so long. I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t get to you as quickly as I could Amelie-”

“Will I recover?”

“Yes, after-”

“Then I don’t care.” Gabriel glanced around. They were in a small room- A closet, maybe?- full of soft, fluffy towels. Gabriel was using one as an impromptu pillow, in fact, and it was coated with the thick, tarry black blood of the Reaper. In addition to that, though, there was the red blood of humankind, the blood Gabriel’d been carrying around in him for forty-three years. A naked bulb overhead illuminated the small space with bright, surprisingly cheery light.

He reached for Reaper powers- dissolving into smoke, teleporting, creating tendrils of shadowy mist- Nothing. He was as mortal as the day he was born, and he’d bet any amount of money that his eyes were back to trusty ol’ brown.

“How’s everyone else?” Gabriel repeated fuzzily, scratching at his beard. He felt pretty okay, aside from the fact that he’d died and come back. Maybe a little disoriented or clumsy, but he got the feeling that was normal for _recently-dead-but-just-come-back_ people.

“I don’t know. Jamison’s been delivering updates every minute or so, and last he checked… It was nothing good.”

“Anyone dead?” Gabriel asked, alarmed.

“No one yet. Hanzo’s keeping Liao busy…”

“Busy?” Gabriel echoed.

“Yes.” Angela wrung her hands anxiously. “We should get out there, quickly.”

“Give… Give me a minute.” His head still spun. “Amelie’s in position?”

“Jamison said so.”

“You got…?”

A slightly bloodied Glock was handed to him. The dark tar of the Reaper’s blood. His blood. Can’t believe he’d actually...

_Don’t think about it._

“I can’t fucking believe she didn’t bring one of these,” Gabriel mumbled incredulously, stuffing it in his jacket. “She could’ve shot me in the head and then this entire fucking plan would’ve gone up in smoke.”

“Arrogance,” Angela said loftily. “She thought she was invincible. Thought she’d outsmarted us.”

“Showed her, huh?”

“I can’t take much of the credit for it, it was your plan-”

“- But you’re the one who figured out how to bring people back to life.” Gabriel argued.

Movement caught his attention- underneath the narrow gap of the door, a small body flattened itself and squeezed through. The aforementioned body proved to be Jamison, who momentarily was caught under the door by the curve of his ass. He wriggled a little bit, clawing at the floor, and managed to get through the little space.

“Ooh! He’s alive again!” Jamison peeped, his big yellow eyes glowing with excitement. “I wanna die next!”

“No, you don’t,” Angela told him, giving the pixie a stern glare.

“We’re past the _I’m-alive-thing,_ Jamison. What’s going on with everyone else?” Gabriel asked urgently.

“Still alive! Hanzo’s doing this thing-”

“Any of them hurt?”

“They’re all hurt!” Jamison peeped. “They all got stomped by that Reaper! It would’a been good to watch with popcorn, one of ‘em got their arm torn off!”

_Not Jack. Please, not Jack. If it’s Jack, I can’t..._

“What about Amelie?” Gabriel fought the quiver in his voice. Focus.

“She’s up on the cliff, jus’ waitin’ for yer signal. I don’t think that lady even knows she’s up there.”

“Roadhog?” Gabriel checked.

“He’s waitin’ in the wings, jus’ in case you fuck up, jus’ like you told him to.” Jamison said helpfully. “Hey, do you think I could help? I wanna blow her up!”

“You don’t want to blow her up. But trust me, there’ll be a lot of blood, and you can get a fuckin’ front row seat.” Gabriel shifted, attempting to get up. He braced his hands on the towel racks, pushing himself up- One of his calves wasn’t responding, not even twitching when he tentatively tried to make it take some of his weight. He remained slumped against the towel racks, pretty sure that if he tried to take a step he was gonna buckle and crash to the ground.

“Angela, my _foot’s_ not working,” he ground out, trying to not make it a whine.

“I told you, nerve damage.”

“Ugh.” Gabriel held out one of his arms, gesturing for her to come closer. Angela seemed to get it. She helped Gabriel sling his arm around her neck. She opened the closet door, and she and Gabriel limped out into the god-faun’s foyer together. The servants were nowhere to be seen, but the master of the house stood in the center of the room, staring pensively outside.

“Reaper,” The god-faun greeted with a slight inclination of his head, not bothering to glance at Gabriel. “Former Reaper, I suppose.”

“Gabriel’ll do.” He grunted. “You’re not stopping Liao?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not? People are going to _die_ out there. I DID die.”

“Inside my home is a sanctuary. Outdoors is not.” The faun said, voice soft and reasonable. “Liao knows if she attempts to force entry into here, I will battle tooth and nail. However, outside these halls is beyond my realm of reasonable jurisdiction.”

“But we both know she’ll come in and try to kill the Shambali eventually,” Gabriel objected. “You’re a _god,_ can’t you just go out there and kill her if you know she’s going to try to do it anyway?”

“No.”

“What? Why the hell not?”

“You may be unaware… But gods are bound by laws.” The faun shifted slightly. “One such law forbids the murder or torture of a Reaper, unless it’s in self defense or the interests of self-defense. Unless she maliciously attempts to breach my home, attack me, or assault my staff… I can’t do anything to help you.”

“Very helpful,” Gabriel said dryly.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever. Should’ve known we weren’t gonna get a goddamn deus ex machina.” Gabriel may have sounded a shred bitter. “Try not to let my friends’ corpses stink up the place.”

“Wait. Before you go…”

“What?” Gabriel glanced back at the faun.

Ashton gently paced over to him, holding out a glittering object. A scrap of twisted metal- a jagged, four inch shard, wickedly sharp at the ends- was pressed into Gabriel’s hand.

“What the hell is this?” Gabriel asked.

“Destiny.” The god replied simply.

Gabriel recalled it with sudden keen memory- Torbjorn’s concoction, Ojal’s life. Ojal viewing Liao’s future, Liao’s death.

_A jagged shard of metal imbedded in her throat. Plunged in and out with fury, blood spraying from the force of the repeated blows._

_The same shard of metal, plunged in the throat and pulled out, leaving her to bleed in peace._

“How the hell do you-” Gabriel began, uncertain. The shard of metal in his hand was a match for the jagged piece that he’d seen in Ojal’s future-seeing, the same piece that had ripped open Liao’s throat in two different futures.

“I wouldn’t be much of a knowledge god without _knowledge.”_ A slight, amused shake of the faun’s head.

Uncertainty niggled at Gabriel, and he asked the question he’d desperately wanted to know ever since Zenyatta gave him a glimpse. “Then which future do I…?”

“Future-seeing is a djinn art.” A slight shake of the faun’s head. “I don’t know. But we’ll find out together. It’s all decided here, isn’t it?”

“Can I die here? Actually _die?”_ Gabriel asked. All this talk of destiny… It was hard to not feel _safe,_ actually. Since Angela had brought him back, he felt… Well. _Invincible._

“It’s very possible.” The faun gave a slight shrug. “I’m sure there was some future- _is_ some future- where Liao killed you before you could shoot yourself. And she could very well kill you the second you step outside.”

“Wait, there _is_ a future where…?” Gabriel’s nose wrinkled.

“Time travel, destiny, and multiverse theory… All complex, but ultimately not worth contemplating outside of the theoretical. You should go outside. Finish this.” The faun folded his arms behind his back. “No matter what happens, or what you become, there is more awaiting you. You aren’t out of the big wide woods yet.”

“God, let’s just get this done.” Gabriel gave a slight nod to Angela, and she aided him in hobbling towards the doors.

“Help me,” Gabriel mumbled after they were out of the faun’s earshot.

“I am,” Angela said. “Are you hurting?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I need to think of a cool one-liner for when, you know. I kill her.” Gabriel murmured.

“Oh. Um…” Angela shrugged as well as she could. “I don’t know…”

“Hasta la vista, baby.” Gabriel mimed shooting a pistol.

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re fired?”

“Too Trump.”

“I’m sure something’ll come to me.” Gabriel shook his head. “Meet my friend, Glock…”

“Definitely not.”

When they got outside, they were met with quite the sight indeed.

Jack- the griffin, not the human- was lying on his back in the dirt- his chest faintly stirred, rising and falling. Not dead. Good. Gabriel wouldn’t deny it- there had been a frightened lurch in his chest upon sighting Jack’s mostly unmoving body. He still had all four of his arms and both his wings, which meant whoever’d gotten their arm ripped off wasn’t Jack, at least.

Zarya and Mei were lying together- the werebear’s leg was broken, jutting at a skewed, awkward angle. Tracer lay slumped against rocks near the canyon wall- Not breathing, Gabriel didn’t think. He passed over her, had to get the full headcount before he tended to anyone. Jesse was slumped brokenly on the ground, panting from stress. Fareeha was actively being tended to by Ana, with small gestures and light brushes of comfort. Torbjorn was holding one of Reinhardt’s huge hands, periodically squeezing. No one was dead- except Tracer, possibly- but the elephant in the room, Liao, didn’t appear to be in a hurry to kill them.

In fact, she was sitting down.

She was on top of a rough throne, made out of shadowy tendrils. On her lap was…

Hanzo?

She was decorating his throat and upper shoulders ( where had his suit jacket and shirt gone? ) with hickies, kisses, and bite marks. They were both cooing noisily to one another- Hanzo making eager noises of encouragement, Liao making aggressive, domineering sounds of pleasure. Blood oozed out of some of the puncture marks, dark flushes of blackish blue and the red of burgeoning bruises. Judging from the expressions on Hanzo’s face- tremulous pain and terrible humiliation- he was not enjoying it as much as his noises made him out to be.

Hanzo’s eyes slid open a crack to see Gabriel- He did a double-take, his brows shooting up and eyes shooting open.

“Reyes-san?” He asked, voice stuttering, catching and cracking on the _san._

‘ _Reyes’_ snapped Liao out of her reverie- Her bright red eyes burned, abrupt and sharp, a contrast from the cool, muted red from before. She glanced from Hanzo to Gabriel, then let out a spitting sound of rage. She pushed Hanzo out of her lap and stood as abruptly as if she’d just sat down on a tack. The vampire took the spill without even bothering to catch himself, staring at Gabriel as if he’d seen a ghost.

“You died!” Liao took a step forward, her throne vanishing into smoke. “You can’t- I _watched_ you die. I _felt_ your soul leave- I took the Reaper!”

There were similar sounds of shock and pain from the conscious people nearby. Jack made a pathetic little mewling noise, his blue eyes wide and full of hope and pain in equal measures.

“I’m really, really stubborn.” Gabriel offered, allowing himself a slightly smug, indulgent grin. “You know me, Liao. Wouldn’t let a little thing like death stop me.”

The shock twisted into rage, comprehension.

“I’m not going to let you ruin everything!” Liao howled, curling her fingers. “I’ll kill you as many times as I have to! The djinn _need_ to die! And when they’re gone, everything is going to be _perfect_ and as it should be! No more human death, no more future-telling- And _you’re_ not going to stand in my way!”

She lunged out at him; eyes blazing, teeth bared, fingers curled into claws.

Amelie didn’t even need to be cued.

Instantaneously, a sniper rifle’s bullet slammed squarely into the spot just above Liao’s shoulder blades, severing her spinal cord and sending the new Reaper crashing to the dirt. No longer able to hold her own weight- back broken. Paralyzed until she could get it healed up.

Now was a good time for Gabriel to reflect upon weeks of scheming.

Plan four in its entirety:

  1. Position Amelie at the top of the canyon.
  2. Manage to get Liao and himself outside alone.
  3. Die by a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Angela’s ability to bring people back from the dead was restricted to those who had killed themselves or those Angela had killed herself- this was the most important step to get right, and the trickiest to pull off.
  4. Have Roadhog stop anyone other than Liao from taking the Reaper. That would be DISASTROUS.
  5. Have Angela waiting in the wings to revive him.
  6. Be resurrected.
  7. Confront Liao outside. Coming back from the dead should give her a shock, enough for step eight.
  8. Have Amelie incapacitate Liao with a sniper’s bullet.
  9. Kill Liao before she can regenerate.
  10. Take the Reaper back.
  11. Victory!



 

Right now, they were waiting on nine. An immaculate little plan, in Gabriel’s opinion, if a shade convoluted.

“Help me over,” He instructed Angela. The two of them limped over together- Gabriel disentangled himself from Angela, now steady enough to handle being upright, but probably not good enough to handle actual motion. He waved Angela off, and the harpy padded a couple feet away, waiting anxiously in the wings should Liao decide she wasn’t quite done fighting yet.

Gabriel stared at the fallen Reaper for a few seconds, internally debating exactly how this should happen- Glock or shard of metal.

Choice or destiny.

Hmm.

He momentarily debated whether or not this had to happen at all. If she could be forgiven, if she could turn it around.

She spat a mouthful of blood at his nice new dress shoes.

Looks like she wasn’t keen on redemption. Goddammit, this was going to be so much harder than it needed to… But she was insane. She had turned her own allies- Jack, Zarya, Mei, Tracer, Fareeha- into motionless, broken wrecks. She had admitted to planning on killing Gabriel and Mondatta. Friend or not, ally or not… She was too dangerous, and especially too dangerous to allow to be the Reaper.

He knelt beside her. She gave him a glare full of pure, venomous hatred.

So this was how it ended. Not a climactic showdown, no titanic battle- just a shard of metal, a wounded, dying Reaper, and a sniper’s bullet. A bit anticlimactic, in Gabriel’s opinion. He thought he would’ve liked to throw his weight around, to fight for real…

But this wasn’t a Marvel movie, and there was no epic throwdown of two titanic powers. Just two people who had been touched by the same demon.

“He’s behind this,” She hissed. Her back was starting to heal- skin bubbling and regenerating, spinal cord re-knitting. Another loud sniper shot shot barked out, shattering the already shattered bone even further. Through what must’ve been a tremendous amount of pain, she managed to spit: “Mondatta.”

“If he’s behind Russia, I’ll kill him myself.” Gabriel promised. “You have my word.”

“Too soft…” Liao gulped, her red eyes fluttering. Small tendrils of smoke rose up from the ground, then sank weakly back to the earth. “You have to be ruthless. You have to strike first.” A desperate, sucking breath for air that sounded too wet, too fragile. “They killed… They killed my family.”

“I know.”

“I watched Mondatta strangle my father,” Liao choked. “I watched him die. No human- No more humans- I won’t let…”

“You lost, Liao,” Gabriel told her softly.

“You were my friend.” Liao’s eyes started to film over, cloudy with tears. Bitterness, rage, regret.

Gabriel raised a hand- hesitated.

Caressed her shoulder. Tender. A comfort in the last moments.

“I was trying to do good… Be a _hero._ Give them what they _deserved…”_ There was a tiny, strangled sound that left her throat. A choked sob.

“No one deserved that, Liao.”

“Did my family?” She shook her head a little bit, as much as her ruined spine would allow. Another lock of hair fell free of her face, in front of one of her eyes. “He’ll kill again. Gabriel. Promise me no one else is going to…”

“I promise.” He assured her, stroking her shoulder again. “We both know how this goes. We were both there for Ojal.”

“I know,” She whispered.

He gently pushed her onto her back, tipping back her chin to expose her neck. Her bare throat was dark against the earth. The yellow feathers of the dress’ ruff were stained with dirt, the dress itself spotted with congealing blood.

The shard of metal felt heavy in his pocket. He removed it, holding it delicately, as if it were made of glass.

“Can you do it, Gabriel?” Liao gave him a look. A tired, scared look.

“I have to.”

He weighed the shard ponderously in his hand for just a few seconds, then rammed it into her throat.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy the cliffhanger boys you'll get used to it
> 
> also: thank you for 13,000 views! :D


	50. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel comes to terms with Liao's death.

Liao died without a fuss.

She bled. And bled. And bled.

She made eye contact with Gabriel- or tried to. He couldn’t hold it.

She died with her eyes open.

Tentatively, a smoky black tendril peeked out from the gore of her throat. Like a gopher leaving its burrow after a tornado- cautious, ready to bolt. After a second, it seemed to notice Gabriel- crooking itself slightly, like a dog with a tilted head. Then it lunged at him.

He managed to grab it before it could leap into his body. It was a semisolid, limp and even a little slimy, like holding a stingray or an eel.

“Not yet,” He mumbled to it, voice sounding too hollow and too loud to his ears. He clasped it in his hands, tenderly, caging it like a butterfly or a moth. It tickled his palms, but didn’t struggle- it remained trapped without the semblance of a fight.

He stared down at Liao’s body.

When the Reaper jumped ship, her eyes had become normal. Her teeth had flattened. She had become… Liao. Not the psychopathic creature swearing vengeance against the djinn… The Liao who wanted Gabriel to stay at her apartment. The Liao who offered him coffee on bad days at the office. The Liao who smiled and laughed at him. The Liao who got him birthday presents and Christmas presents. His superior officer. His friend.

It was hard.

Hard coming to terms with the fact that they were the same person. That the Liao who’d lost her family, who had swore to kill Mondatta, was the same one who could pull Gabriel off a perp and get him a glass of water when he got too upset.

Harder coming to terms with the fact he’d killed her.

Thinking about it lead to a menacing, creeping thought- an all encompassing question that ruined countless lives. Two simple words, a tiny phrase that niggled in your mind and never _ever_ went away.

_What if…_

Absolutely _no_ what-ifs. If he started second-guessing himself, he was going to end up in a self-destructive spiral. Right now, he did _not_ need that. He did not need to be weak and confused and questioning, because everyone _else_ was going to be and _somebody_ had to be strong through all this shit.

“Gabe?”

Jack’s hand came down on his shoulder- gentle, hesitating. Human. Painfully, agonizingly human.

_Remember when you said you had to be strong, Gabe? Now’s the time. Jack wants to know what’s going on. You have to explain your genius plan and how you survived and tell Jack everything is going to be fine._

Gabriel remained silent and motionless.

_Good fucking God, you’re useless._

“Gabriel?” Jack repeated. His fingers tightened against Gabriel’s shoulder. Gabriel wanted to rip them off. “Are you okay?”

“Foot’s hurt.” He managed. “Can’t walk.”

He shifted slightly. He didn’t want to leave Liao. He still had the faint, vain hope that she would spring to life and be perfectly normal. That she would wake up and laugh because it was all the Reaper’s fault that she had wanted to hurt the djinn and go back to Officer Liao instead of Reaper Liao.

But she had been like that, underneath the surface. The old Liao had always held these beliefs, just had never made them known. It wasn’t the Reaper who had turned her against the djinn- It was the djinn themselves and thousands of years of hot-blooded, unserved vengeance. Maybe it was the Reaper who’d been the mechanism- who had allowed her to burn with unbridled madness, who had corrupted her beyond reason. But much as he wanted to blame the Reaper for her violence, for her fury, for her insanity- The Reaper had only accentuated what was already there.

That was the most scary part.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked quietly.

“Uh-huh.” He was staring fixedly at her throat. Couldn’t tear his eyes away. “I’ll- I’ll be fine. Go help anyone who’s hurt.”

“Gabriel, I don’t-” A quiet sigh from Jack, and the griffin sat down beside him.

“Give me your hand.” Jack said.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m holding it.”

“Holding what?” Jack prompted him gently.

“The Reaper.”

Jack looked down at Gabriel’s cupped hands as if he’d just told him he was holding a live nuclear bomb. He swallowed, the gulp audible. Gabriel made no inclination that he’d heard.

“Jack.”

“Yes?”

“I want to go home.”

“I do too.” Jack told him.

“Jack.”

“Mmm?”

“I need a hug.”

Under no other circumstance would he have been this brutally honest. It was a fucked up day today.

He’d killed himself. Then killed one of his oldest, closest friends. He had the taste of his own blood- his own _brain-_ souring his tongue. Had still-warm, congealing blood on his fingers where it’d splashed after he stabbed Liao.

Jack shifted over, scooting behind Gabriel- His warm, strong arms came up beneath Gabriel’s, wrapping around his chest and securing him into a comforting embrace that screamed _home_ louder than any home ever had.

“You should… You should go see if anyone’s hurt.” Gabriel said eventually. He had no idea how long it’d been since they last spoke. The blood on his fingertips was dry, had dried a while ago.

“I’m not going to leave you like this.”

“You’ll be back.” A pause, and he repeated it, more for his own benefit. “You’ll be back. Come back and tell me who’s hurt.”

Jack slowly extricated himself from Gabriel, and Gabriel longed, **_longed_** for that heat to return. Longed for comfort. For warmth.

But it was gone, and he couldn’t be dependant on Jack forever.

His knees were starting to ache from kneeling next to Liao for so long. He shifted slightly, off his knees and onto his ass, folding his legs. He was reminded, distantly, of a kindergarten teacher who had insisted that they sit _“criss-cross applesauce!”._ He had no idea why the memory came to him. No idea at all.

The Reaper fluttered in his hands, probing the slight gap between his palms. Gabriel closed the crack and the Reaper settled again.

The crunch of boots on gravel came an indeterminate amount of time later. Gabriel didn’t move.

“Gabe?”

Gabriel forced himself to reply. “Yeah?”

“Nobody’s dead.”

“That’s good.”

“Tracer got hurt badly.”

“How bad?”

“Major head trauma. If Ana hadn’t got to her as quick as she did, Tracer would’ve…” Jack let that hang, shaking his head slightly. “Reinhardt got choked. He’s unconscious but Angela says he seems fine. McCree’s broken spine was… Trickier. Angela says she can fix it, but she’ll need time and a quiet place to work. After everyone was checked out, she and Hanzo took him somewhere cleaner to work.”

“Fareeha?”

“Broken legs. Shattered pelvis. She’s asleep now, Ana put her out of it. When Fareeha’s healed up, Ana’ll wake her up again.”

“Mei and Zarya?”

“She lost an arm.” Jack said, uncomfortable. “Even if she does have one as a human, it’s hard to say if she’ll be able to grow it back as a yeti. Zarya’s leg was set and she’s back to a hundred percent.”

“The Shambali?”

“None of them were hurt.”

Gabriel finally managed to pull his eyes away from Liao’s body. He looked around- there were no more strewn bodies of his friends and newly acquired allies. Everyone had gone, probably back inside. He wondered if there would be a celebration. He wondered if it was worth celebrating.

Was death really something to celebrate?

Sure, they’d triumphed… Liao’s plan to kill the djinn was over. Could never be carried out, at least not by her.

But the djinn were still being killed en masse by people who weren’t Liao, by people who shared her deep-seated prejudice. Killing Liao hadn’t stopped all bigotry in the world- it’d simply snuffed the most dangerous of all the voices crying for djinn blood.

It was a hollow victory at best, and a wasted life at worst.

“I should’ve done it.” Jack said quietly. He seemed to realize what Gabriel was thinking.

“No. No, I was supposed to do it.” Gabriel replied. His mouth felt like it was full of broken glass.

“Have you killed anyone before?” Jack asked- there was a tentative touch to Gabriel’s wrist. He felt sick. “I’m not asking for a round of shots, Gabriel, I mean it. Have you ever-?”

“No.”

“I should’ve done it.”

He wanted to say _yes, you should’ve,_ but he didn’t.

“I don’t want to leave her here.” Is what he said instead.

“She’ll get a proper burial, Gabriel.”

“I don’t want to leave her here,” He repeated. Jack’s hand stroked tenderly alongside his wrist. Gabriel was painfully aware of the lifeblood pumping through his veins.

There was the soft clop of hooves- Gabriel, with great willpower, wrenched his eyes away from Liao again.

The god-faun paced towards him, with an envoy of faun servants. Two of them bore a stretcher, another a large, silken swath of grey fabric.

“Do you know where she wanted to be buried?” Ashton kneeled down beside Gabriel. Surprise flickered over Jack’s face, over the servants’. Dully, Gabriel understood why: gods did not kneel for _anyone._ “If she had any last wishes?”

“No.” Gabriel mumbled.

“I can check with a history god. See if she has a family cemetery. Figure out where her village was.” The god-faun stood, making a slight gesture to his servants. They carefully, _painstakingly_ carefully, moved Liao’s body onto the stretcher, and Gabriel resisted the urge to leap at them and kill them, too. Jack’s comforting warmth against his back managed to calm his anger. The silken cloth was draped over her, and she was lifted up and carried away. The ugliness, the brutality that her death had been, so neatly covered. As if dying was an offense, something to be hidden away and scared of. Maybe it was. “Do you think she’d like to be cremated?”

“She probably had a will somewhere.” Gabriel told him with a slight shake of his head. “I think she’d probably like to be just buried.”

“Hmm. I don’t believe she has any surviving relatives.” A slight flick of his tail. “I expect Overwatch will search her apartment. Hunt for a will or something similar.”

The faun hesitated- Gabriel interpreted it as wanting to comfort him but having no idea how. “You should come inside. Everyone not in dangerous condition is in the conference room. Waiting for your decision.”

“Give him a few minutes.” Jack told him.

“Of- of course.”

The sound of hoofsteps pattered away.

A new sound replaced it- soft flutter of feathers, followed by the sound of light, dainty footsteps.

“Get up.”

Amelie. Of course.

“He’s been through a lot, Ame-”

“I’ve killed and died before.” She cut in dismissively. “He’s had long enough.”

“What right do you have to-” Jack started, anger heating his voice.

“Jack. Help me up.” Gabriel lifted his chin slightly.

“Gabriel, don’t push yourself-”

Well, since Jack wasn’t gonna do it.

“Amelie. Help me up.” Gabriel glanced at her, and the harpy nodded slightly. She attempted to sling one of his arms around her neck, which was awkward since he had to keep his hands clasped together.

“What do you have in your hands?” She asked, irate. They had managed to maneuver enough for him to keep his hands closed while still being able to reliably lean on Amelie, but it had been awkward and difficult going.

“The Reaper.”

“Ah.” She wrinkled her nose. “Will you be taking the Mantle again?”

He recalled the horrific pain when he had first claimed it. The weeks of suffering. The ugliness and fury it’d brought out in Liao, which terrified him even more than the unending agony and rotting fingers. The second future that Zenyatta had shown him.

But he also recalled what it was like, the freedom of being able to go anywhere he wished at any time. The security in being able to turn into a living ghost at a moment’s notice. The strength and grace that flowed through his limbs during a fight. The longer life it’d give him, roughly matching his lifespan with Jack’s.

“Don’t know,” He replied honestly. He jerked his head clumsily at the griffin standing beside him, worrying like a mother hen. “Jack?”

“It’s your choice, not mine.”

“You’ve got a stake in this,” Gabriel insisted. “Keep it or no?”

“I don’t know, Gabe.” Jack fidgeted slightly. “We should go inside.”

“Very true.” Amelie gave a slight incline of her head. She aided Gabriel in limping towards the door. Gabriel noticed- with a sickening jolt in his chest- that there was a trail of blood leading from where Liao’s body had lain to the entryway. Started off black, ended blood red. The broken glass in his mouth turned to cotton- thick and choking, dry. Wanted to apologize. Too late.

“Amelie,” Gabriel said instead, “You’re going to show yourself? I thought you wanted to stay hidden.”

“Yes.” She replied vaguely. “I told you of alchemy long ago. This is equivalent exchange.”

“That’s concerning,” Jack said- his big baby blue eyes were wide with confusion. Gabriel wanted to kiss the stupid look off of his face. He didn’t. “What are you planning?”

“Gerard LaCroix. You know of him?” Amelie’s voice was cool, conversational.

“One of the only male harpies in Overwatch. Died… A decade ago?” Jack’s nose wrinkled. “You killed him. He was your husband.”

“He was trained under Ana Amari. She loved him like another child.” Amelie murmured. She was pensive, cold as always- her eyes glittered. Unreadable chips of yellow ice. She elected to not elaborate further, and Jack and Gabriel didn’t ask. Not because they didn’t care, but because she had a… _Look_ about her that seemed to radiate hostility and exhaustion. Any explanation they got would be either unhelpful or even more concerning.

He had a feeling that they weren’t going to get through this day without another death.

“Amelie, I am _ordering_ you to not do anything stupid.” Gabriel hissed to her.

She made a noncommittal hum. Probably the best he was going to get.

The three of them limped into the conference room together. Faun servants bustled by, anxiously checking to see if any of them were injured. Jack waved them off, saying they were all fine, they’d all gotten checked out.

They pushed open the doors to the conference room- Everyone capable of sitting had been quiet, but the second Amelie, Jack, and Gabriel walked in, the room exploded with conversation. There were a handful of people missing- Tracer, Angela, Hanzo, and Jesse were all conspicuously absent, but everyone else was there. Reinhardt looked a little woozy, Fareeha was pale-faced and sweating, Zarya was pointedly avoiding touching her leg, and Mei had one hand in a death grip around one of her own biceps. That didn’t stop all of them from rapidly and loudly bombarding him with questions.

The noise hurt for a moment, and he had to calm the urge to run away. He repeated a mantra in his head:

_Gotta be strong for everyone else. Gotta be strong for everyone else._

“Okay!” He said, forcing his voice into a shout. Didn’t want to have to speak louder than a whisper, felt like his chest was fragile and would break if he spoke too loud. “A lot of you have questions. I know. I’ll give you answers, but one at a goddamn time, please.”

Amelie helped him limp over to his chair. He slumped brokenly, enjoying not having to hold himself up. Jack stood loyally at his side, one hand braced and comforting on Gabriel’s shoulder. Amelie stood on his other, arms folded.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Amelie look _uncomfortable_ before. Angry, definitely. _Uncomfortable…_

“Raise hands. I’m not going to have a screaming match with any of you.” Gabriel ordered.

A multitude of hands raised.

Mei seemed like a safe bet. He nodded his head at her.

“How are you… Ummm… We saw…” She tapped the top of her head, slightly flushed and mortified.

“Obviously, I’m immortal.” Gabriel deadpanned. Everyone at the table shifted uncomfortably. “Jesus, guys, I’m not, chill out. Angela revived me.”

“You ate a bullet,” Fareeha said coolly, leaning up. “We have a right to know if you’ve a necromancer on your staff.”

“ _Necromancer_ seems a bit harsh.” Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “I guess though, yeah. But there are conditions. Limits.”

“Like what?” Fareeha’s voice was challenging.

“Look, I know transparency is _really_ important in this situation, but it’s for my own safety that you don’t know.” Gabriel indicated Zarya, who had her hand raised. “Yeah?”

“This is not a question for you so much as everyone here. Who’s the leader of Overwatch now?” Her gaze swept over the crew.

“Mei is the most senior member.” Ana told Zarya neutrally. Gabriel read right through it- She thought her daughter would be the best for the job, but didn’t want to pick favorites.

“I’m not really good at leading…” The yeti mumbled timidly.

“It is very obvious who it should be! Fareeha Amari, as beautiful and as talented as her mother!” Reinhardt declared warmly. “You will be an excellent leader!”

The Egyptian witch went slightly red. “Thank you for your… Vote of confidence, Reinhardt.”

“Tracer would vote for you,” Mei jostled Fareeha’s arm slightly. “So would I.”

“And I.” Zarya grunted.

“Unanimous vote.” Jack’s smile was charming, crooked. God, he was so _handsome,_ even when he didn’t mean to be. “Strike-Commander Amari.”

“I can’t accept this,” Fareeha said, flustered. “The title should be returned to you, Jack-”

“I’m not a part of Overwatch anymore.” Jack wagged a finger. “Maybe at another date, when there are more members, the leadership’ll pass on to someone else. But right now, you’re Strike-Commander.”

Ana looked pleased. _Very_ pleased. Gabriel thought the old woman’s grin was going to split her face. “I’m proud of you, Fareeha.”

The newly christened Strike-Commander looked down at her feet, face flushed. “Thank- Thank you all, for the honor…”

“May we resume the case?” Mondatta, who had thus far been silent, interrupted. “We still have a decision to come to. The djinn are dying.”

“So are people.” Fareeha returned her head to the matter at hand quickly. “The situation in Russia-”

“- Is not our fault. We’ll need to look into it.” Mondatta looked slightly disturbed. “The whole affair is concerning.”

“We’ll pledge people to look into the murder of the djinn.” Fareeha assured him. “But we _need_ you to investigate what’s happening to the constructs and djinn in Russia. If you don’t have anything for us in-” A pause to consider. “Four months, then we’ll rescind our protection. Does that sound fair?”

“Give us more time,” Genji barked. “Six months.”

“Five,” Fareeha haggled.

“Six!”

“Genji,” Zenyatta set the tips of his fingers on Genji’s collarbone, lightly pushing him back into his seat. “Five months sounds agreeable. That gives us until September to provide concrete findings. That is plenty of time.”

“And you pledge to look into the djinn murders?” Mondatta checked.

“On my honor.”

A curt nod. Mondatta turned to Gabriel.

“What of the Reaper?”

Gabriel held up his hands, still caging it. Not everyone caught on instantly, but when they did, people nearby flinched away in fear. The metaphor he’d used for Jack- acting like he’d just held up a nuclear bomb- was appropriate once again.

“Give it to me.” Mondatta insisted. “I will rid ourselves of the Reaper, once and for all.”

“About that…” Gabriel shifted. “What if I want to keep it?”

“Absolutely not,” Mondatta bristled. “It’s _dangerous,_ and it needs to die. You know as well as Zenyatta and I do what could happen if you remain the Reaper.”

Gabriel couldn’t help it- he glanced at Jack on sheer reflex. Had a moment where he imagined Jack on his lap, kissing and nipping Jack’s jaw and shoulders, fondling his-

Bile rose in his throat, bitter and acidic. He swallowed.

“Brother,” Zenyatta said quietly, “There is the matter of payment we have yet to give.”

“Let him ask for treasure, for a riches beyond belief-” Mondatta paid Gabriel no heed, pleading with Zenyatta. “- Let him ask for the date of his death, let him ask for glory and prowess, but I will _not_ let him keep that parasite!”

“Brother, I am certain that on his deathbed he will pledge the Reaper to you.” Zenyatta brushed Mondatta’s bicep with his fingers, comforting.

“You have seen his future. You’ve seen what he does to us- to _all_ of us!”

Worried murmuring. Gabriel could feel a droplet of sweat roll down his temple. He was frozen. People already treated him like he was some kind of monster, but knowing he had the capacity to kill everyone and turn them into trophies… It would be a hell. They’d never trust him again-

“It is our responsibility to witness destiny, not shape it.” Zenyatta turned back to Gabriel. “You may keep the Mantle. On your deathbed, however, we will collect it.”

_What if you’re not around to collect?_

He didn’t ask.

“Thank you.”

“Onto one of the final matters at hand.” Amelie spoke for the first time. She removed the sniper rifle from where it’d been slung around her back, and without warning, tossed it to Ana. Ana managed to catch it, looking startled.

“What am I-”

“I am Amelie LaCroix. I murdered Gerard LaCroix in cold blood ten years ago.” Amelie’s eyes blazed; her voice was stiff, forced. Her jaw was tightly clenched. “For my tenure as the Reaper, I was systematically picking off members of Overwatch.”

Amelie hesitated, just for a heartbeat. “I am asking you- offering you- to take blood for blood.”

“Amelie!” Gabriel got out of his chair abruptly, cursing the air blue when his foot wouldn’t take his weight. Jack’s hands were almost immediately, hooking under his armpits, holding him steady. “Amelie, what in the name of fuck- Now’s not the time to get a conscience!”

“Amelie…” Recognition dawned in Ana’s eye. “I remember you. You tried to join Overwatch.”

“But I wasn’t good enough,” She hissed.

Ana looked down at the rifle, testing its weight.

“Ana, she’s my friend!” Gabriel sputtered. He almost let the Reaper free, _almost,_ but managed to keep his palms together. “Ana, you d-”

Ana dropped the rifle on the table with a clatter.

“Get out of my sight.”

Her voice was low, serious. The lightness in the old Egyptian’s voice had gone- replaced with something hard, old hurt that’d just been scraped freshly raw.

Amelie bowed her head slightly, turned, and left the room without a word of argument.

“Jesus Christ…” Gabriel said, shaken by the whole goddamn affair. Where the fuck had that come from? “Thanks, Ana… I guess?”

“I didn’t do it for you. Gerard… Gerard loved her. I couldn’t.” A slight head shake. “How did she… She must’ve died to give you the Reaper, how is she…”

“Angela.” He grunted.

Ana sank into her chair, covering her remaining eye with the heel of her palm. Reinhardt gently grasped her unoccupied hand and squeezed.

“Gabriel, Mr. Reyes, whatever you prefer-” The faun cleared his throat. “None of us want the Reaper free for any longer than it has to be. If you’re going to resume being the Reaper, I suggest you do so now.”

“How the hell do I do that? Do I just let it go-”

“No!” The faun said hastily. “Please do _not_ let it go, it might end up picking a new host, and that would be disastrous. The white-feathered harpy tending to the werewolf was the one who helped you the first time, correct? Ask her to help you again. She’s in the medical wing with that werewolf, the vampire, and the teleporting witch.”

“Where’s the medical wing?” Gabriel asked. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he could get some help for his injured foot.

“Right.” The faun shook his head incredulously, exasperated by his own forgetfulness. He gestured to a servant, who padded up to Gabriel. “Help him to the medical wing, please.”

“Wait, hold on-” Jack objected. “Gabriel, I’m coming with you.”

“Jack, I think you should stay here.” Gabriel told him.

“What? Why?”

Gabriel leaned in closer, voice lowering to a whisper. “I need someone I can trust to keep peace in here. You’re the leader when I’m gone. Keep an eye on Torbjorn, he’s been eyeing the Shambali since Liao died.”

Surprise flit across Jack’s face. “Are you- Are you _sure?”_

“Yup.”

He kissed Jack- A soft, lingering brush against his cheek. “Make me proud, Jackie.”

“Don’t _ever_ call me that again.” A shiver.

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, that’s what _Ma_ calls me, it’s weird-”

“Bye, Jackie!”

Aided by a deer-man, Gabriel managed to limp several hundred feet into a cold-tiled room. They navigated a multitude of doors and other obstacles before eventually arriving at the aforementioned room, presently occupied by Jesse, Hanzo, Angela, and Tracer.

They appeared to have arrived at an inopportune moment, because Jesse had pinned Hanzo against a wall and was kissing him like it was the last kiss they’d ever have. Hips ground smoothly against one another, hands wandered dangerously low, and  when McCree’s hand dipped past Hanzo’s waistband Gabriel wondered if he should come back later-

“Oh _look!”_ Angela said much louder than necessary. “It’s _GABRIEL.”_

Hanzo and Jesse broke apart like two horny teenagers caught having sex, flustered and red-faced.

“You were seriously gonna- in front of _Angela-?”_ Gabriel asked, disbelieving.

“It- It was jus’ s’posed to be a kiss-” Jesse’s cheeks burned crimson. “Don’t want that bitch’s smell on him. Don’t want her bruises on his throat. She had no goddamn right- She wasn’t allowed to lay her hands all over him like that-”

“If I had not intervened, she would’ve killed you. And afterwards, everyone else.” Hanzo muttered. “These bruises are just as much battle scars as anything else.”

“Bite me an’ heal ‘em up, sweetheart, I can’t stand lookin’ at ‘em-”

“You’re still missing blood from this morning.” Hanzo folded his arms. “Drinking any more is dangerous, I’d need to get it from someone else-”

“I’m not getting bit again, if that’s what any of you are gonna suggest.” Gabriel told the both of them. He turned his attention to the harpy. “Angela, I need you to put the Reaper back in me.”

She startled. “Oh- Oh, erm- Do you- Have it?”

Gabriel wordlessly raised his hands. “In here.”

“Can I go now?” The faun servant asked timidly, perhaps slightly scarred by watching a passionate werewolf on vampire makeout session.

“Yeah, sure. Just-” Gabriel unhooked his arm from around the faun’s neck, and Angela immediately moved over to support him. “Fucking _Christ,_ my leg-”

“It should be fixed when you get the Reaper back,” Angela told him helpfully. “The Reaper heals wounds, and nerve damage isn’t beyond its capabilities.”

“Goodie.” Gabriel replied, unable to muster any real enthusiasm. “Do we need anything for this? Candles or the souls of the damned, maybe?”

“No,” Angela told him primly. “Just you and me- I would prefer that Hanzo and Jesse wait in the hall, so the Reaper doesn’t get confused and infect one of them on accident.”

The two hurriedly scooted out.

“What about Tracer?” Gabriel nodded to the unconscious Brit, who laid on an uncomfortable-looking hospital bed in one corner.

“She won’t be too much of a bother. Quiet, small, unconscious…” Angela cleared her throat. “I’ll need you to lie down, then let it go.”

She helped him shuffle towards an unoccupied bed, gently lowering him onto the mattress. He finally parted his palms, letting the Reaper free. It darted up into the air, expanding into a bigger, darker, cloudier mass.

Angela raised her palms- she was starting to take on a physical glow, a faint yellow outline. Her eyes burned a brilliant gold, drowning out the darkness of her pupil and the whiteness of her sclera, eclipsing the blue iris until all that remained was a sickly daffodil yellow. The room seemed to get dimmer and dimmer in response to Angela’s glow, and muted murmuring sounded in Gabriel’s ears. It was indistinct, and he strained to hear it- He thought one of the voices might’ve been Liao’s, but it was too far away to tell. Was that the sound of former Mantles whispering to him beyond the grave?

Angela twitched her fingers forward, directing them at Gabriel.

The Reaper responded to this- it tentatively approached Gabriel, as if checking to see he was suitable. It thinned into a small tendril, and snaked quietly up Gabriel’s nose. He braced himself for the pain- The first time he’d taken the Reaper, it’d been the most agonizing experience of his life. Nothing had ever come _close_ to that kind of pain before or even after.

Angela’s glow dimmed, faded. The whispers died off.

He didn’t really feel all that different.

“Did it work?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m not sure.” Angela admitted nervously. “It, um, definitely went in you.”

“I feel… Pretty okay.”

“Your body’s still acclimated to being the Reaper. Or, that’s my guess, anyway. Why don’t you see if you have any of your old powers?”

Gabriel’s hand dissolved into smoke on command, then reappeared.

“Ooh,” Angela unexpectedly moved forward and peeled back one of his eyelids, and he had the fight the urge to cringe away.

“What?” He asked. She drew back, looking interested.

“Your eyes are red again.”

Gabriel flexed the toes on his bum foot- Looks like he was back to normal all around.

A bit anti-climactic.

“So. Uh.”

“So.” Angela cleared her throat.

“Amelie ran off.”

“Ran off?”

“She tried to get Ana to kill her.”

Comprehension dawned in Angela’s eyes, and she shook her head the slightest bit. “Amelie… Confided in me, that after the loss of the Reaper… She regretted. Regretted most of what she did. That she was bitter and spiteful and I- I agreed, and I told her she should- Talk to Ana, if she got the time, during this meeting…”

“Her way of talking was tossing a sniper rifle at Ana and telling her to pull the trigger.” Gabriel propped himself up on his elbows, then sat up fully.

“She’ll come back,” Angela said, with a faint twinge of doubt in her voice.

“Well. Now that we don’t hate Overwatch. You thinking of joining again?” Gabriel asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m joining.” Gabriel said simply. “Jack, too. Ana and the others were basically members, up until a decade ago. I’m guessing they’ll join up. Torbjorn, maybe.”

“Sombra won’t,” Angela said, sour. “Something is wrong about her. Why Amelie promoted her as part of our staff…”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel finished for her. “But you’ll probably be welcome in Overwatch- You’re a really good healer, and I’d definitely appreciate your help. We’ve got the whole Russia situation now...”

“Right,” Angela sighed. A nonverbal _here we go again._

"We have time, though." Gabriel rolled his shoulders. "Overwatch gave the Shambali five months. There's peace."

"Until we're needed in Russia." Angela nodded. 

"But we've got peace for now. Soooo... I'd consider my first official Reaper outing a success." 

She laughed. It's soft and slow, happy. She wiped her eye with the heel of her hand. 

Gabriel considered all he'd lost and gained in these months. Jack, Liao, his old life. 

Angela's voice hiccuped, the tail end of a sob, but she's still smiling. "So would I, Gabriel."  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> **  
> __  
> <https://legendary-bard.tumblr.com>  
>   
>     
> Hi! 
> 
> You may be asking yourself, weren't there 51 chapters once? The content in chapter 51 was not the way I wanted to brand myself. It was disgusting and upsetting to some, and I'd like to think I won't stoop that low ever again. 
> 
> Anticipate a new chapter 51- with some soft lovin'- at some point in the future.
> 
>  

**Author's Note:**

> Not exactly my usual type of writing, but dang if a mythical mystery ain't fun. 
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated!


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